


When Everything's Clear, Like Cold Weather

by knightora



Category: GOT7
Genre: Director Park Jinyoung, Injury Recovery, JB has a girlfriend, M/M, Major Character Injury, Photographer Im Jaebum | JB, Photography, Pining Jinyoung, Roommates, Soft Im Jaebum | JB, actor yugbam, jinyoung has achromatopsia, park jinyoung is whipped, producer mark tuan, yugbam on the side
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:08:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24599551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightora/pseuds/knightora
Summary: After suffering a recent fall, Jinyoung, a smalltime director figures he needs a roommate or rather is forced into persuing one. Luckily, that comes in the form of one, elusive Lim Jaebeom.
Relationships: Im Jaebum | JB/Park Jinyoung, Kunpimook Bhuwakul | BamBam/Kim Yugyeom
Comments: 32
Kudos: 154





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this fic back in 2018, and never published it, so i thought i'd fix it up and put it out there! i was inspired by a fic i sadly don't rmemeber the name to :( (two years,,,) so i hope i'm not stepping on any toes, but, enjoy!

Jinyoung watches the man with the camera for probably too long. He’s not quite sure why he caught his attention—maybe the darkness of his hair, standing out against the grey of the trees through the sunlight, but he watches, until the camera is suddenly in his direction, and the man peeks out from behind it.

 _Then_ , he adjusts his glasses and heads down the street, he had a meeting, anyways. He didn’t particularly care if he was late- _he’s the director_ , and bratty actors are the bane of his existence, but Bambam was a good enough kid, and an excellent actor, and he didn’t have to take the chip on his shoulder out on him. The sun is particularly bright today, because it’s a little too warm, and so he’s glad when the cool air of the café greets him, his vision refocusing.

Bambam, is a little awkward, but handsome and charming, and that’s why he was perfect for the role. He doesn’t have a Hollywood production, or Hollywood money behind him either, and so he finds these little meetings with his actors to discuss the role, movie, his vision, etc, works well enough. And he doesn’t have to pay as much, over a coffee and a bagel.

He breaks out into a smile as soon as he sees him. Jinyoung offers half of one back.

“Good morning, Director!” He sings, “Look as angry as always.” 

God, he hates actors. “Good morning. What did you get?” He points to the beverage the kid is halfway through, sitting across, considering getting a drink, but, maybe later.

“Chocolate chip, frap. It’s good, want some?” He holds out the cup, Jinyoung shakes his head, and then he takes another sip. “Oh, by the way, Director, how’s that—“ 

He sighs, pulling at his turtleneck-yes, he’s the man wearing a turtleneck in 78 degree weather. “I’m fine. Doctor’s checking the stitches next week for another round and most of the symptoms are gone. I’m just ready to get back to work, really. I hate I had to halt production for so long. Boss is getting impatient.” Rather, he is. He's gonna finish this project sooner rather than later.

Bambam shrugs, “Gave me a chance to focus on finals.”

“Yeah? I’m glad my pain was your gain.” 

“I failed anyways.” He offers, “And—I’m one-hundred percent on your lines now. I think I’m really nailing the pronunciation.” 

“Oh...actually, I think your accent is perfect for the role. It adds an extra layer of naïveté?” He’s getting off track, but Bambam nods, taking it into consideration. “We can discuss it with the second lead later, but, let’s begin.” He starts fishing papers out of his messenger bag, laying it across the cute café table, adjusting his glasses a second time, and starting the rundown. 

_____________________________

He gets home earlier than usual, because he’s still _technically_ on leave from his job, and he can’t work till midnight doing re-shots either. He always works better at night, and it’s something his crew has to get used to. His apartment-half paid by him, half by his parents, is pretty big for one guy, but he needed the extra room for work. A glorified office, but mostly a second closet.

The thing that annoys him, is his mother buzzing around his kitchen. She doesn’t notice him until he slams his bag on the table and she jumps around.

“Jinyoungie! You’re home.” She drops whatever pan she was holding, “Early. I was going to make us dinner, but here you are. I suppose you could help me.” 

“I suppose I could...”

“Your attitude is not appreciated, dear.” She smiles anyways, opening his fridge and pulling out vegetables, “I went shopping for you, by the way. You need to take better care of yourself. Especially while you’re still recovering.”

He nods slowly, heading into the kitchen area and behind the island. She’s baking something, ontop of cooking? He’d appreciate anything homemade usually, but she’s just here because...

“Mom, I can take care of myself just fine. You don’t need to keep checking up on me.” 

She’s sharp, “Clearly, you _can’t_.” She gestures loosely to him, and then his neck, still nursing a rather large bruise, a slice, leading down to his collarbone, stitches included. “But fine, I wanted to ease you into it, but I should just cut to the chase, huh?”

Ugh, “Listen, Mom, I didn’t mean it like tha-“

She crosses her arms, huffing, a wave of deep black following her. “I want you to get a roommate.” 

“...Are you _kidding_?”

“It’s either that, or you move back with me, Jinyoungie.” Jinyoung wants to protest, but, “You have the extra room, and your...” She groans, “ _Father_ , and I are still paying for the place.” 

He throws up his arms, “I have _one_ accident, and now you want me to have a babysitter? Mom, I’m not a _child_ —“ 

“Nobody said you were, Jinyoung! You’re my only son. I need that extra blanket of security, to know you’re safe.” She sighs softly, he decides to back down. “Please, just do this for me? So I won’t have to worry about getting another call from the hospital in the middle of the day?” 

Fine...how bad could it be? If he plays his cards right, he’d barely have to see the guy. 

His mom smiles at his resignation, “Lovely! Jaemin and I will help you clear out that spare room of yours, and is next Saturday good for you? I'll put up the listing tonight, I'm sure we'll have plenty candidates by then.”

So he spends his week in dread. His mom posts a listing, they go over questions on Tuesday, and she shows him people she's talked to, and he pre-approves paying no attention. She sends her boyfriend in to move furniture out on Thursday, Friday when he comes home, he’s re-painting, setting up a bedframe, and Jinyoung heads right out of the apartment to walk the streets, fuming.

He’s sitting on a bench with a takeout box when he gets a call from one of his other actors, so he drops his chopsticks and tries to calm the fuck down so he doesn’t start yelling.

“Jinyoung-hyung!” The voice exclaims, “Bammie and I are together and we were just wondering...” His voice is a little _too_ sing-songy, his bets on the kid twirling his hair are high, “Are the main characters _supposed_ to be grossly in love with each-other?”

“...Is that a serious question?”

“Yes! So we know how to read the lines, _duh_.” 

“ _No_ —they’re just friends, Yugyeom. Close friends.” 

The voice groans, “So we’re just supposed to ignore all of this homoerotic tension?” 

“Homoeroti-what are you _saying_? Read the lines how they’re supposed to be read.” 

“If they’re not gay, where am I supposed to get my motivation?” 

He doesn’t have the patience right now, but this is his passion project. “Take motivation from the fact that there’s somebody—that would drop everything for you and...huh.” 

“You see it, right!?” He screams, “Right! Right? I’m not crazy!”

“No comment,” His food is getting cold. “I’ll see you all tomorrow, so just keep working at it, alright?” 

_____________________________

His schedule for tomorrow is the fullest it’s been in weeks, and so, he’s a bit nervous, but the day starts out with roommate interviews, seated next to his mother listing off questions on a clipboard.

Jinyoung might not be selling himself. His hair is messy, and he knows he looks tired. He’s also ran out of clothing to cover up his cuts and bruises, so there’s a sweater hanging droopily off his shoulders while his skin is dyed a deeper, darker grey aching to the touch. It’s off-putting, he knows. But it’ll weed out the weak, won’t it?

Nobody’s right. He knows he shouldn’t be so picky, and as the second hour is winding down, and his mother’s patience is winding thin, he makes a commitment to whoever walks through next. To give them the benefit of the doubt, and hey, maybe the fates are on his side.

The next man who walks in is...handsome. That’s the first word on his mind, though he looks well built, somewhat well-dressed, nice earrings but casual, his hair is fluffy, parted down the middle in pretty loose curls, and a friendly enough smile.

His mother’s been doing most of the questioning, but as he sits down he takes a peek at her clipboard, looking at questions he liked, and slides forward, leaning against the table with a smile.

The man does a bit of a double take at his appearance, but keeps his smile anyways, sitting down, “Hi, good morning. How are you?”

“We’re fine. How are you?” He says quickly, before his mother could take in. He takes another look at the clipboard. “Lim Jaebeom, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right. So you’re Jinyoung, then?”

He nods, “Mm. Yes. So you’re a...” He squints, “You’re a photographer?” 

“I am, yes. But most of my income is from my lame day job. Family photography, ugh.” He smiles shyly, breaking eye-contact and running a hand through his perfect hair. “I actually...have a couple of campaigns soon, so that’s exciting.” 

“I’m a director-“ He interrupts quickly, “But I work as an intern—well, not recently...that um, brings me to _this_.” He gestures to his injury. “I’m not like a drug addict or anything, I fell. Got a concussion, and so I’m out of formal work right now, er, kinda, but should be returning in a week or two.” 

Jaebeom nods slowly, as Jinyoung realizes he had no real reason to tell him that and continues after swallowing heavily, trying to ignore his mother’s expression.

“U-um. Do you cook, often?”

“Yeah, I do. Everything I make is edible.” He jokes. Jinyoung laughs probably too hard at that.

“Do you smoke? Drink? Go to sleep early?” 

“No, occasionally, socially, and I sleep pretty late. My schedule is a little...sporadic.” 

Like his!

He chokes out another question, why is he so nervous? Calm yourself. “Um...are you still friends with your previous roommates?”

Jaebeom stalls, biting the inside of his cheek. “Kind...of? It was awkward...um, we weren’t _dating-_ my roommate and I, I mean, but...um, my girlfriend, we started dating, and he kicked me out.” 

Girlfriend...Oh. Well, that’s good. It might be bad to get involved with somebody he was so immediately drawn to.

His mother piques up, as he’s taking in the stranger’s face. He’s handsome. Did he say that already? Those beauty marks... Handsome, but unavailable, so God hates him.

“Jaebeom, my son has lived alone for a while, but, we’ve decided on a roommate situation because of his recent...accident? I just need to know you’ll take care of him.”

“Take...care of...?” He tilts his head, Jinyoung wants to die.

“Oh my god, Mom, don’t say it like that. I fell. Down some stairs. I can take care of myself _just fine_ , don’t worry about it.” 

Jaebeom seems interested, looking at his mother. “Take care of, how?”

His mother doesn’t care about his pride, apparently. “He’s a little clumsy, and he’s nearly burned down the kitchen before. He has hemeralopia, along with the color-blindness so-"

“Stop, _stop_ , Eomma.” He can’t look him in the eyes, anymore, playing nervously with his sleeves. “It’s not that big of a deal, really. Just...yeah. But I...” And he forces himself to look up, and honestly, Jaebeom is too handsome for him. Handsome in a—Jinyoung knows he’s conventionally attractive, okay? This guy, Jaebeom, he’s handsome in a unique way that’s breathtaking in shades of grey. He’s not quite sure if he likes it. Jaebeom quirks his head again, apparently unfazed, with that smile. But he manages to force out a, “...I think, I think you’d be a good fit, Jaebeom.”

“Oh, _shit_ , really? Can I get started now? Moving in, I mean. Haha. Oh, wait, my deposit, right? Yeah.”

His mother gives him a look, probably surprised by the decision, but goes along anyways. “Oh, certainly. Jinyoungie, you have work, right? I’ll take care of the specifics.” 

He nods slowly, thankful for his mother remembering his schedule, and bows his head to Jaebeom, searching for his coat, bag, and running out of the apartment. 

_____________________________

His studio, also known as the $300 dollar room he’s decided to rent out because his mom hates him, is where he watches Bambam and Yugyeom run out their scenes, mouthing each line word for word, but groaning as the actors get too embarrassed and break character.

“Bam, stop smiling. This isn’t a smiling scene.”

“I’m _sorry_ , okay. It’s just...” He giggles, “I’m sorry! Hoo! Okay, I’m in it, I’m in it.” He shakes his head, dropping the script, and going right back in.

Then _Yugyeom_ starts laughing, covering his mouth. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Oh my god, shit.” 

These goddamn sons of bitches. 

Eventually, the studio door opens one of his friends from college, Mark, with coffee. The actors drop what they’re doing immediately, and run to him, picking up the drinks. Jinyoung supposes he could understand, he has a habit for overworking himself, and others, but...

It’s fine. Fine. Whatever. 

“You look better, Jinyoungie.” He comments, holding out a cup to him. “Your favorite, the sweet stuff.”

“Thanks.” He wasn’t really a coffee-guy per say, but he doesn’t have anything against it, either. “I feel better. Antibiotics and painkillers actually work. Who would have thought.”

“Listen, _I_ believe in medicine, I’m not Jackson.” He draws a hand through his long hair. He dyed it light, he thinks he said _blonde_? But it’s a pretty nice contrast against the darkness of his studio. “Oh, yeah, I wanted to talk to you about the score.”

He takes a sip. Way too sweet, why did Mark think he liked this shit? “Mm. I’m all ears.”

Mark nods, leaning against one of the walls, gesturing to the actors, “Since it’s like, a summer love story-“

“...Love story? _Where_ are you people getting this? It’s a coming of age friendship flick.” 

Mark nods. “Sure. Coming of age love-“ He groans, Mark continues. “-story, I’m thinking...some soft woodwinds, I have a demo, hold on.” He pulls out his phone, searching for earbuds and offering one to Jinyoung, a soft melody of panflutes, and light string instruments flowing out.

Later on, when he gets home, of course, he’s surprised to another face in his kitchen, cooking. Oil is popping, and it’s hot, and he could see Jaebeom sweating from here.

His new roommate turns as he shuts the door, smiling. “Oh, hey, you’re back!”

“...Hey...” He mutters, glancing around. Everything seemed the same, except he wasn’t alone. 

“I was making stir-fry...um, as a...welcoming gift? I just used what was here, I hope you don’t mind.”

He drops his bag on the kitchen island, “It’s fine, I wasn’t going to use it anyways. You’re already settled?”

“I didn’t have much,” He admits, turning back to his work. “Nothing really heavy, just some clothes. Work stuff.”

“Oh.” He stares. He feels like he should be more uncomfortable, with a stranger, but he doesn’t mind it at all. “Do you...need a comforter or something? You can borrow one of mine.”

Jaebeom gives him that brilliant smile, “Don’t worry about it, I’ll just buy one tomorrow. Hey, so um...” He starts plating the food, wiping sweat off his brow, “Your mother said...so, like you’re really colorblind?”

He nods slowly.

“Not like, the red-green shit. Like...”

“Black and white...”

He breathes, “Wow. That’s so...I don’t want to say cool, but...” He glances away, searching for the right word, “Most of my photography is in grayscale. I just think there’s something unique about shadows in black and white. So...crazy coincidence, right?”

Oh...

“Show me. Can you show me?” He stops, watching his expression, “I mean. I’m interested. I’m sorry, that was strange.” 

Jaebeom smiles, “Sure! I’d love to. I still have to set up my computer and everything, but...” He waves, Jinyoung nods, and he's not sure how to categorize the fluffy clouds overtaking his feelings where his heart tends to be. 

A roommate like this, huh? Jinyoung's got a lot to prepare for then.


	2. Chapter 2

First dinner, a little awkward. By the eighth, they’ve got a routine. That’s not to say he’s forcing Jaebeom to cook for him or anything, he just does. Out of the kindness of his heart, apparently. And they go well together. Jaebeom’s agreeable, and their hobbies match. It’s not a bad arrangement at all. And so, Jinyoung makes it a point to be home at around a certain time, and they catch up for the week. 

Jaebeom watches him, as he enters. Surprisingly, his roommate picked up on a lot of his mannerisms and can read him really well. Probably too well. He taps his fork against his plate after they’re seated, and everything. “So. Bad day?”

“Mmph...understatement.” He groans. “I had to do some shooting for the film...and my boss ruined it all by calling me in and I had to leave my actors hanging.” 

“Ah,” He mutters, “If you need any help, you can just ask me. I’m pretty good with a camera, too.” 

Guest director? It might not be a bad idea to bring him on...for assistance. He needed a color assistant anyways, his actors were useless  _ (‘It’s like, blue, hyung.’ That didn’t help?) _ , and Jaebeom probably knew more than  _ Mark _ . 

“That would be  _ great _ !” He bursts, and Jaebeom seems surprised by the sudden energy. He gets it, he’s not super enthusiastic about much of anything. “I-I mean! Anytime...you’re free...I’d love to have you look at the shots.” 

“It’s no proble-“

“We’re—supposed to be um, heading out to film tomorrow. I told you, right?”

“Mmmhmm, yes you did.” Of course, Jinyoung, you idiot. “Are you okay with holding a camera, anyways?” He gestures to his injury. Somewhat healed, still gross looking. The deep, grey,  _ purples _ , Mark had called it, still over most of his left side. He’s gotten the strangest looks.

“I can, I’m fine. But...” He glances down, back to the plate, “We’re going tomorrow...it’s supposed to be half of a picnic, half work. Mark’s aunt’s letting us use her farmhouse-okay, sorry, getting sidetracked. Would you like to come?”

“Tomorrow?” He asks, Jinyoung nods, “I could maybe clear my schedule,” He teases,

“It’s short notice, I know...but...”

“I’m  _ kidding _ , Jinyoung. I’d love to help.” 

He blinks, “S-sorry. Haha.” He smiles softly, “So...what are your plans, for tonight?”

“None particularly. Sunmi wanted me to come over but,” He shrugs. “I don’t know. We had a fight.” 

“A fight?” He did seem a little down. He’s so grateful for Sunmi, his girlfriend, honestly, because she keeps him just far enough away from Jaebeom. “Are you alright?”

He sighs deeply, leaning back against the chair. “I don’t know. I guess...I feel...unloved. Unappreciated?” He stops, “I don’t know why I said that to you, sorry.” 

“That’s fine. We’re friends, right?”

“ _ Yeah _ , we are. You should show me some shots, later. What’s the film about? You’ve like, mentioned it in passing but...”

“Never really explained...yeah. It’s sort of  _ Catcher in the Rye-ish _ ? I’ve had the manuscript since the beginning of college, basically.” He pauses, twirling the fork and thinking. “Imagine Holden Caulfield meets  _ Paul’s Case _ , and Blanche from _ Streetcar _ , but as a guy.” Funny, because of the nature of Blanche’s character, but it’s the best description he has. 

“Ah...” Jaebeom nods, but Jinyoung keeps talking,

“It’s all shot at the 'golden hour'—or I want it to be, the sunset just offers the perfect  _ mood _ , you know? I want to put a bit of a  _ Cat on a Hot Tin Roof _ , spin as well. I wanted my second lead to have that sort of, Elizabeth Taylor, Vivien Leigh feel, but with Marlon Brando vibes. You know?”

“Jinyoung...” Jaebeom begins slowly, “I have no idea what you’re saying.”

“Oh.”

“I’m not really into American film—um, but definitely keep talking. It’s nice to see you excited about something.” He says. Jinyoung tries very hard not to take it to heart. “Maybe...I have nothing to do. Movie night?” Oh, he likes that much, much better.

Jinyoung really did just come home, and go to sleep, most nights. After dinner, and then curling up in his blankets until the morning sun blinds him. (He does usually keep his blinds closed, but it can still be annoying.) Jaebeom, however, made it a point to check up on him every single night and...it’s so endearing. Probably at his mother’s direction, but he didn’t have to follow her rules at all.

And because of Jinyoung’s insane sleep schedule, they haven’t really had that sort of... _ bonding _ thing. They ate together, and talked casually, and Jaebeom checks up on him to make sure he’s not dead when he avoids coming out of his room. Very chill. 

And the thought of them just...sitting, alone, together, going through some of Jinyoung’s favourite movies in a quick crash course it’s...somewhat nerve wracking. Sharing popcorn, brushing fingers, and as the night winds down, maybe a...

Okay, Jinyoung. That’s enough. This isn’t a movie. This isn’t even a screenplay. But he nods, and about twenty minutes later, his daydream comes true. Jaebeom, in his oversized hoodie, with a blanket, and his legs curled up, right next to him, as he presses play on  _ A Streetcar Named Desire _ . He’s watched this so many times, he knows practically every line uttered by Vivien Leigh, and every shot, frame by frame. He decided to lean against the arm rest, as far away from Jaebeom as possible, trying to ignore his presence, the cologne.

“Oh, this is interesting.” He mutters in Jinyoung’s direction. “See how they play with the shadows as...what’s his name?”

“Stanley. And. I  _ know _ .” He presses a hand to his cheek. “It’s so symbolic. And breaks your heart.” 

“Very clever.”

And another long pause, until Marlon Brando is screaming  _ Hey, Stelllaaaaa! _ at the top of his lungs, and Jaebeom catches his attention again. “He’s like, really attractive.” 

“ _ Yes _ .” And, wait a second-

“It sucks he’s playing like, the worst person ever.” And the conversation ends there, until the credits roll, and the popcorn’s gone, and Jinyoung finds himself lying against his shoulder. Not quite sure how it happened, but he feels content, here. Ranting, even better.

“It’s like—when you think about it, the play is such a significant view on like...abuse. But it’s so common, and I mean, Marlon Brando is so attractive, you don’t want to hate him but that’s the  _ point _ . And Blanche is supposed to annoy you, but then you feel bad for her, ugh, it’s such a classic.” Jaebeom just listens to him as he goes on, and on, and Jinyoung realizes how grating his voice must sound and he stops, just sighing again.

Jaebeom tilts his head in his direction. “Something wrong?”

“No, uh...just sick of the sound of my own voice.” 

“Oh. Sorry, I was kinda,” He taps his forehead, “Trapped up there.” He says, “But I don’t mi—“

“No, it’s  _ fine _ .” He manages to laugh, a little strained, pushing away from him. “Um, I should go like...I gotta pack my camera.” 

Jaebeom follows him, sitting up, “Do you need help with that?” Jinyoung lifts himself off the couch, stretching a bit, but stopping once he feels the soreness. 

“It’s okay.” He starts, hands going to his sweater, “You go, do you.” Jaebeom nods at that, lifting an eyebrow, and Jinyoung excuses himself to the darkness of his room.

__________________

Jinyoung, as old school as he is, doesn’t shoot on film. That’s only because it’s so expensive, he’ll do it when he gets enough money. His camera is—it is extremely heavy, and it’s handheld, but it shoots so beautifully...he’s not going to forgo quality for some bruises and a bunch of stitches.

He packs the camera, extra scripts, that he spends a little time reading through. Every time he goes back, he wants to change something, but his actors have memorized everything at this point, it’s fruitless to be a perfectionist. 

He places the bag by his bed, stands, and then trips, falling right to the ground, face first.

Aftershocks rock his body, numbing him, especially on his left side—he can practically feel his skin bruising deeper at this point. And his body doesn’t respond to him either, so he just...sighs deeply. This is probably what his mother meant. He can pull himself up, resting in a planking position, but that’s as far as he can get. 

As soon as he opens his mouth to begrudgingly ask for help, the door creaks open, “Heard something fall—are you?” And they lock eyes. Jinyoung tries not to look  _ too _ pathetic, but he’s already um, fallen far, no pun intended. Jaebeom has his hand around his waist, pulling him up against him in seconds.

“Can you move? Should I get you to the hospital, or something?”

Jinyoung lets himself lean on him, “I-I can...it’s just um...taking a few seconds.” 

Jaebeom frowns, leading him out of his room, and into his. Jinyoung’s not sure what to make of it, but it’s a nice room. He would know. It was his closet/studio. He misses having that much room to himself, but trading it in for a man is nice as well. The window has an excellent view of the city streets, and Jaebeom’s photographer in him must have seen that too, because he has an entire setup by the window, and his desk/computer off to the side of that. Um. Anyways.

Jaebeom leads him to his bed, without a word, and starts rummaging around under his bed, presenting a heating pad.

Oh, how nice. 

Feeling comes back gradually, Jinyoung tries not to seem like he’s watching Jaebeom’s every move, but when he strides over to his computer so casually and starts working, how could he  _ not _ notice the fluid movements, how bad, (but still charming) his posture is, how he’s editing candids of his girlfriend right now.

No wait, not that one.

Jinyoung crawls over to the other side of the bed, to get a better look. She’s gorgeous. He’s gorgeous. They’re probably a great couple. 

“Is that Sunmi?” He asks, and Jaebeom turns his chair a bit, to look at him.

“Mm. I took these about a week ago. I was gonna use them as an apology.” 

Photos of herself as an apology? He’s sure his confusion comes across, because Jaebeom chuckles,

“Um, she’s an model. Headshots are always helpful.” He leans on the desk, glancing over Jinyoung, “You’d be a good model, Jinyoung.” 

He scoffs, “Oh, stop. Flattery gets you nowhere.” 

“Flattery? I’m being honest. Your features are lovely.” He sucks in a breath, “They’d photograph well.” And Jinyoung exhales in disappointment. He can’t possibly imagine one man being this oblivious. He’s just acting like this to spare his feelings or something, right? 

He manages an easy response—no obvious um, pathetically pining over your roommate on his face at all! But, he’s not pining, though, right? He’s good. Jaebeom’s great as a friend, fuck, “I-I, uh, I think I prefer being behind the camera.” Of course he fucks it up at the last second. Jaebeom doesn’t seem to think much about it, though, turning back to his computer,

“Sure, but give it a try. I’m a professional. And besides, I’ve heard you reading out your scripts. You’re pretty good at it.” And conversation lulls from there.

______________________

Jinyoung spends the early morning, double checking, triple checking, checking. He tests his endurance, holding his camera on his shoulder, and it hurts like hell, but he’ll have to swallow all of his pride before he asks for help. It’ll be fine.

The more he says it, the truer it’ll be, duh, of course. He re-packs the camera, throwing the bag over his shoulder, and goes. To an empty living room. They’re on a schedule here. He drops his bag on the couch, and is back at Jaebeom’s door, shut. Not open and friendly like last night, and he shouldn’t be overthinking it, but that’s a writer’s brain. He knocks, no response, door’s not locked, he opens it.

Another direct contrast, all of the curtains are shut, blocking the budding daylight, keeping the room dark, save for the white light from his computer, and the man himself, sound asleep, laid across his bed, cuddling his pillow, of all things. He tries not to...to...to look, come up with all these pretty words to describe him, but fails horribly.

See, Jaebeom is clearly a protagonist of a novel. But Jinyoung also gets the feeling that he’s terribly lonely—he’s three dimensional. He could think of all the character beats Jaebeom could have in a perfect script (of his own writing, of course) or what a pretty leading man he'd be but there are more important things to focus on. Like getting the man up, for one. 

He clears his throat, “Jaeb—“ And he springs up before he could finish, flinging the pillow away, ungracefully landing on the ground, out of Jinyoung’s view. He takes a few more steps in, “Jaebeom?”

He sounds like he’s in pain, “I’m fine, I’m fine, don’t come in.”

“Are you sure...?”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine!” He calls, and Jinyoung guesses he finally takes a look at the clock. “Fuck.” 

“Take your time.” He hums, and navigates his way out of the room, closing the door gently behind him. He spends the next twenty minutes, texting Mark,  _ oh, running just a little late, don’t worry _ ! He washes the dishes, because, well, what else can he do. He spends a little time staring at which pair of glasses he should take. The more fashionable ones, or the effective ones. He decides to throw the more aesthetically pleasing ones in his bag anyways, maybe if he provides a stroke of inspiration to a certain someone...

Eventually, it just devolves to scrolling down his phone and tapping the dining room table, and there’s the sound of Jaebeom’s door creaking open, then rushing out into the main hall. His hair is still wet, so he’ll give him points for not wasting too much time.

He’ll have to give the guy credit, he’s certainly a little stylish. And it’s kind of the opposite of what Jinyoung’s wearing. He threw on a black t-shirt, tucking it into to...are they considered boyfriend jeans if he’s a guy? Whatever. Anyhow, he thinks he and Jaebeom are on the same wavelength because he chose a white t-shirt maybe, and now, they’re accidentally matching. At least they’ll know who the directors are. 

Jaebeom bows his head, throwing his own bag over his shoulder, probably his own camera equipment, “Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry.” 

Jinyoung tries not to look too...invested. “It’s fine, there’s no way in hell the others were gonna get there in time anyways.”

“Oh.”

“But, we should start driving.” 

“Right!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

And one drive-through later, they’re on the highway. Jinyoung’s absolutely fine with driving. The windshield is tinted, and he has his glasses, it doesn’t take a lot to stop him, though he would have preferred driving earlier in the morning so the sun wasn’t so high. It’s not, it’s not that bad, though.

Jaebeom spends his time chattering off his ears for once, though, and it makes Jinyoung feel so much more comfortable and relaxed. “—invited me to like a poetry slam. I went, of course, because he said he wanted somebody to hear his poetry, but by someone he liked, and his club basically threatened the guy, haha.” 

“Was the poetry good?”

“Isn’t that  _ subjective _ , Jinyoung. Come on.” 

“No, I think there’s a pretty good line between  _ good _ and  _ please stop _ .” He says, sighing as traffic has him lull the car to a slow stop. That’s the other thing. Summer travel. Summer traffic. 

“All art is good art, if you have a big enough heart.” Jaebeom says, bringing up one of his legs into the seat, pulling in to himself. Jinyoung had noticed he threw off his shoes a bit ago, so he’s probably still tired. The other thing is how he’s been sneaking glances, but,

Since they’ve slowed down, Jinyoung spends a few seconds glancing into the rear view, he should’ve brushed his hair out more. He makes a quick attempt at fixing it, before well, giving up. That’s also because he’s ignoring the obvious— _ somebody _ is staring at him.

Jinyoung meets his gaze, and tries to sound amused though he’s more curious than anything. “What?” 

His roommate smiles a little, “Nothing?” 

He presses, “Is there something on my face?”

“Only your face.” He says, and then laughs at Jinyoung’s clear frustration. “You have a really defined profile. It’s like glass, sharp.” 

He takes a moment, pushing up his glasses in the most nerdy way possible. “Can you put a number on my artistic value, then, Mr. Photographer?”

“Oh, no, that’s priceless, Director.” He sighs, “You have a lot of conflicting images. At some angles you can look pretty feminine, but, then you turn your head. You’re an enigma, Jinyoung.”

He’s not sure how to respond, so he spends a few seconds stumbling on sentences, and before he can get one out,

“That was totally weird. Forget I said that.” He puts his leg back again, slurping into the car seat, Jinyoung decides to turn on the radio with a quick nod, and it’s quiet for a while.

It dawns on him that he didn’t really tell him about the rest of the crew, but he also feels too awkward to re-start the conversation. And it’s not like he’ll get a chance either, because there’s a ringtone,

“Oh, would you mind if I took this?” Jaebeom asks, Jinyoung nods without meeting his eyes, because his face is hot, so hot, right now. “Good morning, beautiful. Did you like my present?”

Of course. His luck.

“Mmm...no, I’m just helping out my roommate. Did you need me for something, baby? You’re back in town?”  _ Oh my god, is he really like this? _

Jinyoung does his best to tune out the conversation, but he sounds so sweet and lovesick, he can’t block it all out. 

“Well, I’m glad. I’d love to see you when I’m back, I miss you, you make me so lonely sometimes...” He starts giggling—yes,  _ giggling _ ¸ “I’m not  _ desperate _ ! I show my affection to you, and this is how you treat me? I’m done.” Don’t be jealous of someone you’ve never met, Jinyoung. Don’t be jealous of someone you’ve never met, Jinyoung. Don’t be—

“Love you too, beautiful.” And Jinyoung slams the breaks as the car in front of him suddenly stops, “Oh—uh, bye!”

He’s a bit afraid to look, but knows Jaebeom’s peering at him, so, “Uh. That could have gone worse.”

“You didn’t hit him, right?”

“No. It’s good.” 

“Alright.”

Eventually, the city landscape gives way to trees, and fields, and rolling hills, all of that good shit. And with no more buildings in the way, it’s getting a bit harder to see, but he hasn’t crashed  _ yet _ . 

Mark sent him the directions like, a week ago, and he memorized them accordingly, take this exit here, then drive for about another half hour, then stop here because it’s another two hours so get something to eat, and it’s one of those strange, non-urban convenience stores. Or is it a rest stop? He doesn’t spend much time out of the city. It’s scary, out in the country. A lawless place.

Nonetheless, he clicks off his seatbelt, climbing out of his car seat to the, literally blinding sun. He grabs the side of the car door, to keep his balance from the sudden dizziness. Nothing new, other than the heat, which pisses him off. How can it be, so, so hot, and hazy at the same time?

It takes a few more moments for his eyes to refocus, so he leans on the side of the car, as cooly as possible. Jaebeom waves his hand across the hood to get his attention. It’s been a quiet, however long it’s been. Not completely uncomfortable, but not great either.

“You want me to get you something?”

“I’m okay-”

“I’ll get you something.” And he’s gone. Probably could’ve stopped that from happening, but whatever, it’s nice. Having someone actually care about you with no obligations is nice. 

Jaebeom brings him back something resembling a strawberry smoothie. He says resembling, because he can’t quite make out the label until they’re back in the car, and he doesn’t bother. Eyes on the road, and all that. 

For...the next two hours, eventually, he’s parking on a dirt road with a picturesque house, cabin, and idyllic lake a little far off, and yelling from the steps of the house.

As he opens the car door, “Guess who  _ finally _ decided to show up!” Somebody throws a can, and it rolls on the ground, to the car. It’s like a switch turns on.

He shuts the door, pulling the sunglasses away from his collar, replacing it with the other pair, you know, better vision so he can yell properly, and points. “Are you really sitting around?”

“Waiting for  _ you!”  _ Yugyeom supplies, he notices his two leads were sitting on some porch-swing, in the heat, for some godforsaken reason. “What’re we supposed to do?”

“Ugh. Us actors subject to the insensitivities of directors, yet again. We never win, do we?” Bam shouts, and Jinyoung resists the urge to tackle him and get charged for assault. 

He opens the door to the backseat and throws his camera bag over his shoulder, ignoring the ache from the sudden weight. “Fine? Get down here, then, let’s get to work.”

“Wait, seriously?” Yugyeom calls, “—Because Mark-hyung went to get us some snacks an—“

“Down here?  _ Now _ ?” He sighs in relief, watching the two scramble out of the swing, and down the steps. He ignores Jaebeom’s eyes on him again, walking past the kids once they get to him, “Mark’s inside, yeah? I’ll tell him we’re here. This is Jaebeom, he’s helping me today.” And hops up the stairs, into the house. 

_____________________________________________

A little later, Jinyoung props himself onto the edge of Mark’s pickup, script in hand, going over the blocking. Mark’s sitting on the ground, leaning against one of the tires, fiddling with something on his laptop. Probably music. Jaebeom is next to him, properly in the cargo bed instead of precariously balancing, taking a few planning shots, testing out angles. The scene is supposed to be a bit of a picnic, in front of the lake, and so...well, they’re doing it wrong. They need to be closer. 

Sunset is in an hour or so, so they need this right  _ now _ . 

“Okay, no, cut, cut, cut.” The actors sigh, and turn to him. “First, move closer. Yes, don’t bite each other or anything, please.” He waits as they scoot closer to each other on the blanket.

They know him well, “Anything else? Before the eight-thousandth interruption, you know.” Bambam groans, slumping back again. 

“Actually, yes. You need to...” He glances around for someone to use as an example, and grabs Jaebeom’s hand, pulling him closer. He holds up their suddenly intertwined hands, “...When you take his hand, something more gentle, Bam? Like this.” Jinyoung can’t say he has much experience, but he knows what he wants to be conveyed. “And you pull him closer like this.” He snakes his other hand around Jaebeom’s waist, getting him even closer, and squeezing his hip. 

And then he notices how fast Jaebeom’s heartbeat is. His head  _ is _ pressed to his chest r...ight...now.

Don’t freak out, Jinyoung. Don’t. He pulls away, stiffly, and turns back to his actors with a shaky smile. 

Bambam nods slowly, clearly thinking. Yugyeom smiles back at him.

“And you say this isn’t a  _ romance _ .” Mark drones. “All you need is the big kiss at the end, really.” 

“Well, I won’—“ 

“I wouldn’t mind that!” Yugyeom chirps, “I think it completes the arc nicely!” 

“We won’t be adding a kiss.” 

Jaebeom leans down a bit, to talk into his ear. Jinyoung thinks it must be a form of subtle revenge for manhandling him earlier, breath tickling his ear. “You should still film it, just in case you change your mind in editing. More options, love.”

He swallows harshly, blanking at that last part. It’s just a nickname, Jinyoung, he’s heard him refer to people as  _ love _ even when it’s not Sunmi, like the tool h- “Okay, yeah. Why not. Add an entirely different context.” It’s not sarcastic. 

He can feel his lips curl into a smile against his ear as he pulls away. Cheeky bastard. Jinyoung thinks he’s as shallow as a screenplay, and is  _ damn _ good at it. It’s a great thing his sunglasses can hide most of the embarrassment, no-one can call him out for it...except Bambam, as he raises an eyebrow.

“Hey, hyung—“ 

“What are you doing? Get back into character, re-start the scene!” He watches him begrudgingly stand, one knee at a time, and walk towards the lake. As soon as he’s far enough away, “Action!” 

And as the sun sets over the lake, and Jinyoung can finally forgo the glasses all together, he’s kneeling with a camera on his bad shoulder. He forewent a stabilizer for this specific scene, just because he preferred the shakiness, the intimacy of it. 

Jinyoung writes scripts, and directs movies. There’s plenty of symbolism to have, but he can’t exactly add literary subtext in a scene, it’s all through subtle choices like this. He enjoys how he, himself, can get absorbed in his work, recording the scene like a spectator.

And when the sky is a darker grey, but the sun is providing beautiful, moody lighting over the trees, he’s sitting in a field, still kneeling. As per request, instead of Yugyeom’s character just, leaving, which they’ve filmed already, he’ll run back, and do the whole, Hollywood kiss or whatever, because it’s such a perfect ending. 

Right before he yells action, Jaebeom leans down next to him, “I’d keep the shot focused here. The sunset is really red, the green helps cool it down a bit.”

He moves to where Jaebeom points,

“And are you okay?” He asks, “Your shoulder and everything, it’s been a good hour. I can be the cameraman for a bit, Jinyoung.” He ignores the rush of blood to his ears, shaking his head. “Okay...” 

Eventually, all natural light disappears, and he can finally see well, but that um, doesn’t extend to his actors. They need about two more hours of shooting...but Bambam just tripped and fell on his face. 

“Okay, no. That’s a wrap for the day!” He shouts, watching Yugyeom help his friend to his feet. Makeup: ruined. “Hyung.” 

Mark pulls down his headphones, “I think we’re on the same wavelength. “My aunt doesn’t give a fuck about who’s in the cabin, we can definitely crash for the night.” 

He glances to Jaebeom, “Is that okay with you?” 

He nods, hesitantly, biting his lip. “Should be fine, I think.” 

And turns his attention to the actors, shouting over. “You kids okay with staying overnight for another day of filming?” 

And so, the five of them playing a game of cards to see who gets the bedrooms, or the living area. As the fates would have it, his actors share a room, Mark gets one for himself, and he and Jaebeom get the two couches and television to themselves. 


	4. Chapter 4

Jinyoung spends a few minutes plugging in his camera-equipment so it can charge for tomorrow, ignoring the warning signs his body is giving him, climbing onto one of the couches, staring forward. He hopes it looks like he’s deep in thought or something, instead of in horrible, aching pain, as whatever adrenaline, energy, from filming, filters out and leaves him...kind of struggling to move, to be honest.

Jaebeom exits from the little kitchenette or whatever, mug of tea, one hand, and his phone in the other, typing, and then leaning on the side of Jinyoung’s couch, waiting. 

“Take any nice shots?” Jinyoung asks. Jaebeom doesn’t seem to acknowledge him, absorbed on his phone. “Jaebeom?”

“Hmmmm?” He doesn’t look at him still, but Jinyoung doesn’t need to repeat his question, so he was sort of listening. “I did. You wanna see in a bit?” 

“I’d like to.” He replies, watching him walk away from the couch, and place his mug onto the side-table. And then pull off his shirt—he has an undershirt thank god.

“Let me make this call first.” He hums, heading to the entrance, and excusing himself to the great outdoors. As soon as he’s gone, Jinyoung sinks into the couch, slowly peeling his shirt off of his shoulder, the sticky feeling of blood being pulled away from the fabric—annoying. It seems to be that he’s re-opened the stitches with the extra weight for the past couple of hours.

Great. Well. He’ll need to clean this. 

Someone, probably Bambam is hogging the  _ one bathroom _ and so, yes, he’s the one with a roll of paper towels, soaking them on his shoulder in the kitchenette. The bathroom, when the star-power leaves, should definitely have some peroxide, he’ll schedule a doctor’s appointment when he gets home, he’ll be  _ fine _ .

Jaebeom finds him sitting on the kitchen counter with bloody paper-towels, and a half-soaked, half-bloody sleeve.

He didn’t look too well himself, re-entering the cabin. He seemed on the verge of tears, actually, if his glassy-eyed and barely-there pout—cute, btw, had anything to do with it. He sighs, wiping his face, pocketing his phone, and then their eyes meet.

Whatever sadness, wiped off his face. “Jinyoung...”

“Don’t freak out. I’m fine. I’m fine.” He’s fine, he’s fine. The more he says it, the more convincing it is. Jaebeom seems—nervous? Jittery? His eyes flicker around the room several times, clearly thinking. And he clearly doesn’t believe Jinyoung, with how he doesn’t meet his gaze. “H-hyung, honestly, I’m—“ 

“You’re not  _ fine _ , you’re wiping off your blood on a kitchen counter. Is that fine to you?” He didn’t expect him to be so aggressive, shutting off the sink, rest of the dark-grey, probably staining it irreparably. Hopefully Mark’s aunt wouldn’t mind. “I’ll drive you to the hospital.” They’re...close, Jaebeom leaning into his space so he can inhale his scent, close, so he can yell at him. His hand rests on the counter, a few centimeters away from Jinyoung’s—you know, the bloody hand. He eventually comes up with a response as Jaebeom searches his eyes for one. 

“No, I...don’t think it’s hospital worthy. A few stitches came undone. I’ll head to my doctor when I get home.” He says, as calmly as possible. 

Jaebeom doesn’t seem to believe, or agree with him. “No way. I’ll just drive you. Get your—“ Annoying. What authority does he have over him?

“—I’m an  _ adult _ . I’m  _ fine _ . I have a job to finish, and let me finish it.” He keeps his head high, hopping off of the kitchen counter. Jaebeom may have more of an imposing figure—those shoulders...but he’s soft. Jinyoung knows his own presence probably scares away...most, along with a bite to his voice he’s mastered after practicing for years. He looks past him, to the bathroom, open now. “You should get some rest, Jaebeom. Don’t worry about me.” 

To his surprise, as he looks back, he’s crying, shamelessly. Annoyance immediately replaced. 

He can’t help it. “Whoa.” He’s a  _ beautiful _ crier. You only see that in films. And then it dawns on him. “Hey—no, d-don’t cry.”

It’s not—it’s not sobbing, wailing, anything, just a few tears slipping down his face, leaving pretty, clear stains, as he doesn’t wipe them away. He just stares, lips trembling the slightest bit. 

Oh, his heart aches. It’s such a unique pain—it’s not like the constant pain in his shoulder, arms, his headaches, it’s...this. Heartache. He reaches for Jaebeom’s wrist, pulling the photographer to him, chest to chest.

“I’m fine, hyung, please don’t worry. I’m okay, right?” Jaebeom stares right past him, a quick soft sigh. “Jaebeom...”

His name seems to snap him out of it, blinking a few times, and meeting his gaze again. Then looking at their hands—and then how close they are. An inch...and a head tilt. Not that Jinyoung would be thinking of that. 

He exhales quickly, pulling his hand out of Jinyoung’s grip. “I’m...I...oh.” He blinks a few times, and then finally takes a step back. “C-clean...go clean your...the blood.” 

He takes that time, pouring peroxide over his arm, to stare into the mirror. He’s...he feels so...he needs, god he’s not sure how much longer he’ll be able to deal with  _ Im Jaebeom _ . Could he...he...

Jinyoung finds that, even though he looks terrified staring into the mirror, there’s something in his eyes, or, something...it’s excitement. Jaebeom was really ready to drop everything, take him to a hospital, and make sure he was  _ okay _ ? And—he—cried...over...oh, god, Jinyoung can you  _ finish _ a thought? This is too much, too much. 

And he...has a lovely girlfriend. Move on, captain pathetic.

He throws his sweater back on, exiting the bathroom, to a dim living room, and Jaebeom staring at the ceiling on the couch Jinyoung was going to take. He doesn’t move at all, as Jinyoung settles in on the adjacent couch, using the pillow meant for his head, to prop up his arm. 

Jinyoung stares at the ceiling for a bit, too, playing with his hands. “Ummm...it’s okay that I call you hyung, right?”

A pause, long enough for Jinyoung to think he’s asleep, but, “It’s fine.” 

It feels like he stares at that ceiling for hours, and there’s the sound of rain softly hitting the rooftop, adding...a sense of the un-real, like a fantasy could come true at any moment. 

And the sense of gliding through realities gets on his nerves and he turns around on the couch, onto his stomach, reaching for the television remote. He clicks it on, and only gets static.

“Seriously?” He mumbles, as Jaebeom shifts, turning on his back, and their eyes meet. He’s not sure why his half-tired gaze takes his breath away, but Jinyoung stares. 

There’s just something, so intense about his gaze—even when it’s clearly not intentional. Like reading right through him, but he’s so oblivious to...

“Jaebeom.” He starts, quickly, knowing regrets will catch up to him later. “I have something to get off my chest.” 

“Hmmm...” He mutters, moving to face him completely, same, intense photographer’s stare. The shadows from the staticy-television illuminate his face in a lovely way-two-toned shades of grey, as he pursues his lips. 

“But...” He sighs, “I don’t think I can say what’s bothering me, and it’s stressing me out.” 

“Mmmm.” He moves, stretching so his shirt lifts, a sliver of grey from his white undershirt, providing hot static to his mind. “Write it, then.” And his voice is deep, thick with exhaustion. “Can’t sleep either. Thinking too much.”

Thinking too much is right. He can’t even come up with a comprehensible response. 

Write it, then, hm.

________________________

When they get home, Jaebeom is noticeably standoffish, usually just offering a small smile in greeting, and uncomfortably quiet dinners. Jinyoung tries not to be bothered by it, editing the film,  _ writing _ ... 

It’s a romance, this time. But, also a five-act tragedy. 

Re-opening stitches—opening the wound, means: antibiotics and elevation, and so, he’s practically on house arrest to avoid greater infection to his shoulder. If he knew all of this would have happened from tumbling down some stairs, he might have just given up the arm voluntarily. 

Jaebeom doesn’t take him up on that modeling job—in fact, he spends a lot of time at Sunmi’s. But not on the night they have dinner together, and never the entire night so what can he say? He wanted to live alone, can he complain about loneliness  _ now _ ? 

When he’s sure Jaebeom’s in his room, he wanders in. Jaebeom always keeps his door open, or a little cracked, which Jinyoung loves. He’s open. He’s seated at his computer, editing. He has one of his canon cameras next to him, on and connected, as he clicks through a few pictures on the device, display changing on the computer as he does. 

It’s...late. Not spectacularly late, but he should be resting as per doctor’s orders. But he’s so  _ bored _ , he hasn’t seen anyone in  _ days _ , except his doctor. Mark just sent him a selfie ‘cause he’s  _ so hot _ , here I am, eating hotpot with the rest of your friends also, are you still dying? Yeah. And it’s not like Jaebeom’s around,  _ so _ . Alone, with his thoughts,  _ all day _ .

“Hyunggg...” He knocks on the door to get his attention. Jaebeom doesn’t turn, but he lifts his head. Was he falling asleep?

“You’re alive?” He exclaims, leaning back in his chair, clicking off the editing tab. Jinyoung has been a hermit for the past couple of days, especially since Jaebeom’s not been around.  _ Then _ he turns. If Jinyoung were sick and tired, which he is, he is exactly that, Jaebeom is him tenfold, even  _ without _ a broken body, dark circles apparent under his eyes, puffy too. “Something wrong?” 

“Not particularly. I wanted to go out for a walk, so...” He waits, hoping Jaebeom might get what he’s hinting at, but he keeps that calm, placid smile of his. “I’m a little...you know,  _ blind _ , I see better at night, hyung, but I...”  _ Don’t wanna go alone _ . Jaebeom tilts his head, resting it on his hand, curiosity painting his expression. “Will you come with me?”

Realization dawns on his face, culminating into a soft smile. “Ohhh, of course, love, let me get a jacket.” He stands, pulling his desk-chair behind him and stretching.

So he’s still,  _ love _ ? That’s unexpectedly comforting. “I’ll, um, let me do that too.” He says, pulling away from the door, and backing into his room. It’s still summer weather, but a bit cooler, so he goes with a cardigan, hooking his glasses on his t-shirt in case he needs them, but his vision tends to be fine at night. As he backs out of his room, he runs into Jaebeom’s back, wrapping his arms around his stomach to steady himself. 

Jinyoung swears the void stares back. Or, whatever Jaebeom’s back is considered because how is it  _ possible _ —

“Are you that nervous, Jinyoung?” He teases, it irks him. The gall of this man...

He’d move away but he decides to squeeze him instead, mumbling into his ear, “Make fun of me again, Jaebeom-ah. I dare you.”

Jaebeom exhales softly, wrapping his hand around the one against his chest and gently removing it, but still holding on. “You  _ flirt _ .” 

“F-flirt? What are you talking about? That was a  _ threat _ .” He stumbles, but tries to keep the authority in his voice. He pulls Jaebeom a little closer, turning so they face each other. “Let’s just get out of here.”

Jaebeom squeezes Jinyoung’s hand again, before letting go, and they’re off, forgoing the elevator for stairs—it’s broken. Jinyoung has always had difficulty with these stairs. The grey of the walls nearly match those of the stairs, and the only break from the monotony are the windows. It is where he fell, after all.

“Can I hold on to your arm?” He mutters, pulling Jaebeom’s sleeve right before where he thinks the dip is. Jaebeom simply offers it to him, and soon enough they’re out to the refreshing night air, arm in arm. 

“Beautiful night.” Jaebeom hums, as they separate. Jinyoung keeps close so their shoulders bump. “Any destination in mind?” Jinyoung thinks a little—how can he extend this time together as long as possible?

“I want.” He pauses, “—Need, some sugar.”

“I am  _ not _ going to kiss you.” He says, to a pit dropping in Jinyoung’s stomach, but smiles anyways, tapping his chin. “Sugar...are you sure that’s good for your body?”

“Do I care?” Jinyoung mumbles, “If I die from an ice cream, it’s worth it.” 

“Ice cream, then.” He turns away from him, and snaps his fingers after a second. “I know just the place. It has beautiful lighting.” And takes his hand, leading him down the street. It’s late night, and so the streets are mostly empty, and grey light filtering through from neon beams give this more...personal feel, to the night. 

Eventually, Jaebeom lets go of his hand once Jinyoung keeps his pace, and they can walk side-by-side. “So um. Is it close?” 

“Sorta. It’s like a twenty minute walk, off by the rivers.” Oh...so near where he used to live? He wonders... “Miya and I used to go all the time. It’s a place for drunks mostly, so it’s open until three.” 

“Three?” How has he never heard of this place? A well kept secret, he supposes...He starts playing with his sleeves, preferring the ground to his friend, “Used to?” 

“You know. Since I moved. Our apartments were practically next to each other. But.” He waves a hand, dismissing the conversation. However, Jinyoung continues,

“Why not move in together, er, anyways? It’s...pretty serious, right?” 

“Oh...” He’s clearly uncomfortable, but talks anyhow. “She didn’t want to. Which I understand, but...” He shrugs. “Isn’t it more romantic, separate?”

“How do you mean?” Jinyoung asks. Judging by how affectionate he could be with  _ him _ , he wouldn’t expect—sure, a long-distance-ish romance can work in a novel, but when you live so close...and yet away, it must be...

“Distance makes the heart grow fonder, right?” His tone, well, it makes Jinyoung think he’s convincing himself, rather than just believing it. And Jinyoung vehemently disagrees.

He slows down a bit, as the river appears. It’s a nice strolling path, water, pretty streetlights. Were they walking quicker than he thought, or...?

“I think I disagree.” He starts, taking a few moments of awkward silence to gather his thoughts. And maybe it isn’t even true. He could be projecting. “I mean...isn’t that cruel? Why torture...well, why make yourself feel worse?”

Jaebeom looks away from him, throwing his hands in his pockets. “Well, no. I don’t think it’s torture. Desire can be a good thing, no?” He waves a hand, “Motivation, and what not. And there’s no better way than, having someone on your mind. Haven’t you...”  _ Dealt with that before? _

No, not before. Jinyoung tends to find romance tedious, and way too emotional at the same time. He doesn’t want to be shambles over  _ anybody _ , which is why he prefers writing...well. 

He doesn’t like the way Jaebeom makes him feel  _ now _ , with this monochrome orbital hold he has over him...for what? Especially over the past few days when he’s been  _ gone _ , and, fuck, he is exactly what Jaebeom is talking about.

He bites his tongue. “I...yeah, I don’t know.”

The shop’s empty when they get there, save for two bored workers that appear to be unexpectedly excited serving them. They take a booth in the corner, under all the neon signs the place was covered in. Jinyoung just got vanilla, in a cup. With sprinkles. They’re all different shades of grey, so,  _ rainbow _ ?

Jaebeom leans against the booth with a milkshake. It’s one of those pretty, movie-perfect ones with a striped straw and everything. He thinks he’ll write a scene like this for his project. 

He thinks he can sort of understand what Jaebeom meant by good lighting, it’s...moody. But Jaebeom stares around the shop in wonder until he lays his eyes on him.

And pulls his phone out. “Don’t move. The light...” 

He drops the spoon a little, ice cream slipping off. “The what?” 

“Tilt your head towards me a little, hm?” He slides out of the booth, and kneels on the ground, and continues giving him directions. Look away. Stick your tongue out. Smile. Flip your hair. Look at me...In a few minutes, his ice cream has all but melted and Jaebeom apologetically offers his milkshake with a sheepish smile. Jinyoung ignores the thoughts of an indirect kiss as Jaebeom stops him again, holding up his phone.

He gets on his knees, on the booth. “Look at me...yes, just like that. You’re so handsome, Jinyoung-ah. Take a sip. Up. Look up—a little bashful, yeah?” 

Eventually, he sinks back into his seat, cradling the device. Jinyoung’s not sure what to make of the last ten or so minutes, but he feels hot—his skin feels hot, and his heartbeat is stuttering. Does that come across? A mixture of awkwardness, embarrassment and, well...the obvious. 

He scrolls through the photos, showing one to him—where he’s looking up at Jaebeom, holding the straw in-between his fingers, an inch or so away from his lips, looking tired as hell. Flirting maybe? Because that’s what he was trying to do. But apparently handsome, to Jaebeom. The photographer sighs, 

“You know, I don’t like using color, but it looks so beautiful on you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so for taking so long! college is a stressful process this year, but i hope you all enjoyed!!


	5. Chapter 5

The next day sometime after his doctor’s appointment, Jinyoung finds himself in a bar, shielding himself from the bright sunlight that caught him off guard afterwards. He gets a call.

“Guess what, guess what?” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be working, sir?” He mumbles, as the bartender slides over his cocktail. Painkillers and alcohol. A legendary mix. One drink so he doesn’t look stupid, standing in the bar hiding from the light. 

“Yeah, but, guess what?” Jaebeom is so cute. Wow. 

“I’ve got nothing. What?” He tries not to smile too wide, even though there’s only him, and the bartender right now. But he can feel his smile twitching bigger each second.

“Miya, her company, you remember, modeling, is having a party Saturday, for this merger with a, get this, _film company_. You’re invited, plus one, you’re welcome. I am your networking king.”

“Wait, huh?”

“She visited me at work, told me, and I got too excited and had to tell you! Isn’t she so sweet, offering an invitation?” 

“Mm.” He starts stiffly, “She—yeah. I’d...oh, I get to meet her.”

Quietly, after a pause. “Yeah.” And a cough, “I’ve gotta get back to work. Be sure to tell me who you’re gonna bring, hnhn.” That was a snort. Cute. Cute. Cute. He downs his cocktail after that, pays and starts his trek over back home, eyes glued to the ground for better navigation. Why didn’t he drive again?

A few issues arise once he’s in his room.

One: Film isn’t finished. He would, have nothing much to offer in a clear, portfolio sense of the word, except for a few scattered scenes and two-three minute little exposes. He’s working on a new script, but it is 100% not done. 

Two: A plus one. Because he can’t hang on Jaebeom’s arm all night.

He leans back in his desk chair, throwing his feet up on the desk, and pulls out his phone.

He’d ask Mark, but he hates parties, if they’re not tiny, and full of alcohol, which this one probably will not be. So he calls the only other person he’d personally be willing to make out with at the end of a probably depressing night.

“Jackson?” 

A pause, then a gasp of delight, “The elusive Park Jinyoung! Wow!” 

“Hi...um, how are you?”

“Fine, fine. Good. And you, my favourite director?” Jackson...is an absolute sweetheart. Mostly because he knows what people want to hear, it’s why he’s a manager. He’s not quite sure who he manages anymore, but he knows he’s...really popular. And yet. “Finally ready to become the actor film studios have dreamed of?”

“Ahhhh...” He knows his laugh must come across as awkward as possible. “Hahaha...no.” 

“Model, then?” Jinyoung laughs again. “Please...don’t let your pretty face go to waste.” 

“No, Jackson. I just wanted to invite you to a party.” As his date? Date? Date...? “I was given a plus one, so...Saturday?” 

“ _Saturday_ ?” He sighs heavily, “The one night I already have an affair. Sorry, Jinyoung… _ahh_ , I’d love to hang out with you for a night.”

“We can do that...sometime, I think.” He mumbles, “Um. I gotta find someone to take with me, so I’ve gotta go. Talk to you sometime soon?”

“Mmm. See you! Or. Talk to you. Bye!” 

“Bye.” And he leans back in his chair. Dropping his phone to his desk, and groans. Very loudly. “Fuck.” 

Maybe he could just hang with Jaebeom all night? He...no, okay, no Jinyoung. Find a date. 

______________

He spends most of the week going to, and from the doctor, and being barred from any, and all physical activity to avoid the stitches re-opening again. It’s a horrible week, sitting around. He spends his time either editing, or watching movies. Wednesday, he’s halfway through _Sunset Boulevard_ , mulling over how badly he relates to Joe, but really Norma’s struggles over a bowl of popcorn.

He adjusts, trying to ignore the ache, but ends up on his stomach awkwardly craning his neck, looking like an idiot, when the door opens.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Jaebeom muses, shutting the door, and peering over the edge of the couch to smile at him. Jinyoung moves, sitting up and stretching.

“Do you want to sit?” He yawns, placing the bowl in his lap. 

Jaebeom leans further over the edge, so that they’re face to face. His eyes dart downward for a second or two, and Jinyoung can’t help but notice the easily closable inch between them...

He smiles. “Hi...”

“How are you feeling? Well?” Jaebeom asks, “I feel like I haven’t seen you all week.”

 _Oh, you feel that way_ ? “I’m better. I had a bit of a fever earl—“ Jaebeom reaches over, placing his hand on his forehead, then each side of his neck, “I... _ah_...” He huffs quietly, ignoring the little freeze in Jaebeom’s movement. “Hyung, your hands are cold.”

“Mmm...and you’re warm. Don’t you feel hot? You need some rest.”

“I’ve been resting all week...my doctor says it’s normal. I just have to let the illness run through, I think...um, actually, I should go take my medication.” Jinyoung mutters, drawing away from his hands, and getting on his knees to pull up, and climb over the back of the couch. As you do. He has the extra energy to exert, as quickly as it can drain. Jaebeom follows him into the kitchen, removing parts of his uniform as he does. Throwing his apron over his shoulder, tossing his visor to the couch, as excellent throw, he might add. Pulling off his t-shirt and balling it---okay take your meds. 

Jaebeom leans on the counter, flicking a salt-shaker, “Don’t you need to eat first?” Jinyoung fishes out the cocktail of antibiotics and pain meds his doctor practically shoved at him,

“Uhhh...I dunno.” He admits, “I mean, it’s been fine so far soooo...uh? Would it say it on the directions? Probably, right?” He picks up the bottle, and gains nothing but the dosage. So. It’s fine. 

“I could make you something quick if you’d like.” He says, Jinyoung probably couldn’t shake his head harder because he’s a little dizzy. 

He’s careful with the medication, laying them out one-by-one. Antibiotic, 600mg dose, Ibuprofen, 800mg, and acetaminoph—okay, _Tylenol,_ 400mg. One to manage his injury, most for the headaches and pain. It’s unfortunate. He takes the medication down in mostly one motion, just pausing for water. Jaebeom cringes.

“You should still eat something...soup? I can make you some—“ 

“No...I don’t think I’m hungry. It’s mostly just...” He sighs, brushing through his hair, “Headache, right now.”

“Love, that’s why you _eat_. Go finish your movie. I’ll make you something, okay?” He understands that his attitude is supposed to be loving, but...Jinyoung doesn’t enjoy being taken care of. He’s never liked it. He likes his independence and Jaebeom is—okay, bit too lightheaded to argue back. Maybe this is what’s best for him, huh? Fine. Stubbornness has it’s limits. 

He exits the kitchen, back to the living room, and his movie. He wonders if he’ll ever stop with the old black & white films, but, no, he won’t. Jinyoung has _taste_. Who needs expensive SFX and meaningless scripts, anyways? 

“By the way,” Jaebeom calls, over the sound of various pots clanging, “Will you be alright for the party, do you think? I wouldn’t want to stress you out.” 

“I'll be fine...don’t worry. Had my suit dry cleaned and everything, hyung.” He watches as Max relays his story to Joe-iconic cinema. Wilder. A directing genius of his time.

“Fancy! Did you find a date?” Jinyoung decides to avoid that question, with another one.

“How’s Sunmi?”

He gets a response after he can hear the water running. “She’s fine.” 

And...it’s quiet from there. After the film ends, and he’s gone back to cable, settling for some weird primetime show, Jinyoung can’t take it, and wanders back into the kitchen.

Jaebeom’s just sitting at their table, waiting, but he looks exhausted. 

“Hyung...” He starts, and Jaebeom’s eyes flicker to him. “You look um. Really tired.” 

“Admittedly, I haven’t been sleeping the best.” He shrugs, “My schedule isn’t really okay in the first place, but I’m okay.” 

“Why are you cooking for me anyways? I’d much rather you rest...” He hopes it doesn’t come across the wrong way— “—Not that I’m ungrateful! Just...just a little worried about you, sometimes...” 

A smile does crack it’s way onto Jaebeom’s face, small, but there...if they just had the overture filter in now... “Thanks. For worrying. But...I’m fine.” 

“I...I think you should sleep anyways.” He says slowly, and then an idea dawns on him. He could make sure he got a good night’s rest— _and_ be closer...just because his presence does soothe him quite a bit. “Why don’t we, uh, make the living room our—uh. Sleepover?” 

Jaebeom raises an eyebrow, and then jumps, as the sound of broth sizzling over reaches them. He hops over to the stove, turning it off...and sighs. 

“I’m...really fucking stressed.” He admits, as the sizzle dies down, and Jinyoung tries not to be too taken aback. Not the way he expected this to go.

Navigating something like this though...it’s worthwhile. He takes his approach slow, stopping at their island, parallel of him. Jaebeom keeps his eyes on the stove, as Jinyoung decides what question to begin with.

“Is it work? Rude customers or something?” Jaebeom shakes his head a little. 

“I don’t...know how to say.” He starts, turning away from the stove, but keeping his head down. “It’s—like...I’m sorry. Explaining should be easy but...I really can’t.” Another pause, as Jinyoung waits. “Do you get what I’m...” 

“Not saying at all?” He interjects, half joking. “Just try for me.” 

“It’s a lot of everything...I guess?” He starts. “I ummmm. Well. I’m sort of stupid all the time, I’m sure you know that.” Jinyoung nods slowly, finding the self-deprecation...a little odd, but, understandable. “Miya...” He stops.

Jinyoung waits, but it doesn’t seem like he’ll start speaking again if he doesn’t prod. “What about her, hyung?” 

“She...she...” He watches him smile inwardly. “She’d probably prefer me dead, to be honest. Out of her life and with...” He swallows, heavily, eyes darting away. Paranoid...?

“I don’t believe you.” Not with the way he gushes about her...

“I’m—I’m really hanging on by a thread here.” _In what way_? He moves to leave, but Jinyoung steps in front of him, taking his arm, and pulling him over to his side. 

“You’d seriously leave me hanging there?” He tries to get his attention, but Jaebeom keeps his eyes downcast. “She doesn’t love you? You always talk about her so fondly. Are you sure you’re not blowing things out of proportion?” 

“I’m not.” He says simply. “I’m sure.”

He leans in a bit, as his voice gets lower, but Jaebeom steps away. “How can you be so sure?”

“—Because I’ve been in denial forever and it’s really starting to _hurt_ ,” And he looks at him. Jinyoung’s sure his heart is pierced by the intensity of his gaze. Like the energy after a lightning strike... “I thought she’d just...no. I can’t. I’m sorry.” He pulls away fast, Jinyoung can’t deny the wash of cold over him. 

He follows him down the hall after a second and watches him shut his door.

Closed.

How is he supposed to take that? 

He knocks gently, after a few moments. “Hyung, come on. Let me help you.” 

And unfortunately, he doesn’t get a response.


	6. Chapter 6

Jinyoung  _ knows _ Jaebeom is avoiding him when he doesn’t see the guy until Saturday morning, for an extremely lonely Friday. Romance films, alone. Sigh...

Jinyoung thinks he might not care about any hold ups he has at this point. He just wants to cuddle. No. Okay. That’s the loneliness talking. 

Jaebeom is...he’s so strange to Jinyoung. He practically just admitted to playing him for, for what? Attention? Sunmi doesn’t give him enough, clearly. Because Jinyoung wants that too. He can’t lie. A little attention is plenty addicting. 

His portraiture is certainly in need of a new change, though. Veering away from black and white photographs of her, to maybe...

Enough. 

Jinyoung stumbles into the kitchen that morning, after a particularly bad night of sleep. Tossing and turning isn’t good when your shoulder wants to rip away and start its own colony. He enters to Jaebeom cooking.

A scene out of a classic—you know, the opposite of breakfast in bed, but just as romantic? Obliviously making breakfast, to your lover walking in, the kiss on the forehead...everything.

He’s just...insanely happy to see him in brighter spirits, after three nights of a locked door. That’s plenty. 

He seems to notice him immediately, turning with the skillet in hand. “Oh! Jinyoung.” He turns back to the stove, but the smile’s still there. “How are you feeling?”

He doesn’t bother. “How are  _ you _ feeling?” 

He lifts his head. Same smile, that would make his heart flutter. “Better.” He drops the skillet back to the stovetop, “I feel better. I’m really sorry about the other night. I think I got...too emotional? It  _ was _ a bad day at work.” 

“Oh.” Was it? But... “Hyung, you know you can trust me, right?” And without thinking. “I like you so much.” And as it hits, “—As a friend. Because you’re such a lovely friend. I worry...um.”

He changes the topic smoothly, the only acknowledgment being his soft smile. “You’re still ready to party, tonight, yeah? Miya will...” He takes a quick breathe. “Be excited to meet you, probably. Yeah.” 

“Really.” He might not be too interested. 

“By the...by the way. Umm...those pictures I took of you the other night.” 

“At the ice cream parlor? What about them?” He waits, watching him plate the food, and then offer him a plate. The conversation only continues once they’re seated. 

Jaebeom speaks with his chopsticks, pointing at Jinyoung with them, “I spent some time editing them, if you want to see. I...well, I focused a lot on the coloring. Which you can’t see, but it’s pretty, I think. Photographs of the elusive director...” 

Jinyoung’s not usually disappointed by the fact he can’t process colors, because, duh. Why would he? It’s just life. But...

“Do you think...you could describe it?” 

“Describe, like, the colors?” 

Jinyoung, no matter how infatuated he might be, always thought—in the back of his head at least, that Jaebeom is...incredibly shallow. Depth, skin deep, like the page of a script. Flip it over to a blank side. Like a photograph with no context. And maybe, that’s his point. Some guard. He pretends to be open, but slaps his hand away any time Jinyoung wants something, anything more. And—that’s okay! Jinyoung, like any director, will never underestimate the value of...looks. It’s all you need in a film, really. Pretty. Mild interest. 

Jinyoung doesn’t find himself like a novel either. He’s got a fairly good grasp on what he is, he thinks.

And, other than that encounter a few days ago, Jinyoung couldn’t say he quite knew what Jaebeom’s issue was. He’s...more vulnerable than expected. He goes deeper...and it’s getting painfully more obvious as he takes the time, attempting to describe these colors. 

The words he uses, are delicate, and pack powerful imagery into one.  _ Pink _ , mixing with  _ blue _ , he says, invokes a feeling of longing, or melancholy in him. He said to imagine an empty city, and take that overwhelmed feeling and put it together with...with...

It just doesn’t register in him. The words Jaebeom give him swirl in his head, attempting to build a picture, but it won’t connect. All he can do is stare at the monochrome of his face and imagine it painted in...

“Was that good, do you think?” He asks. Jinyoung stares, blinking, drawing his face away from the picture, and back to Jaebeom’s face. He can’t help the nervous smile quirking at his lips.

“I understand it perfectly. Thank you.” 

“Ohhh, I’m glad.” He sighs, reaching for his drink, and bringing it to his lips, curving around the glass, as it should. It’s nothing special, watching him, but Jinyoung stares, hard. He tries to use the descriptors, the words, and put it together. His lips are  _ pink _ , that color he said to imagine as a city? No, wait, longing...that works. And his eyes, are dark  _ brown _ , perhaps? That could be...loneliness,  _ dark _ corresponding to an empty city, but  _ brown _ is used for  _ warmth _ and...

No.

He sighs, pushing away from the table and gathering his plates. “I’m gonna go work for a little bit.” 

“Alright! I’ve got some errands to run actually so I...” His laugh carries a light bounciness with it as he plays with a few strands of hair. Nervous...? “Let me know if you need anything, yeah?”

“Sure.”

_________

Jinyoung’s got a rough draft on this  _ stupid _ film when he remembers he has an engagement that night. His legs are wobbly when he pulls himself out his desk chair, to the shower. He’s so annoyed, he can’t put it in words.

Editing that film was torturous. Not only is it not  _ perfect _ , he’ll have to go through maybe, seven, eight, nine, ten more times, but the entire time, he couldn’t focus, mind drifting away at sea to thoughts of a certain somebody, making it  _ worse _ . And unfortunately, his mind keeps drifting as he’s shampooing.

Maybe, if he keeps thinking about Jaebeom, his brain will tire it’s self out, short circuit and he won’t even blink, watching him with his girlfriend! Or...could the opposite happen?

It’s not even worthwhile things. Jinyoung’s been thinking about his fucking  _ hands _ for the past half hour. Why are they so small? And squareish? That’s weird—that’s weird, right? 

Hour 2.5 was his lips. Just because. Well defined, pretty, and the way that he speaks, it’s like he’s...gently guiding the words around? Hour 4 was his eyelashes, and that one time he cried, it was like the tears were slipping off a leaf. And hour--

Oh, god, is he going to get drunk tonight. He spends a bit staring into the fog of the mirror considering how to style his hair. Like normal, maybe? He has no one to impress...or, wait actually.

Sunmi. He has Sunmi to impress. Better work at it, then. Where’s his makeup, again? Or, actually, he’ll just…Go meet his date.

_________

Outside of the apartment, Jinyoung fishes out his phone, typing,  _ hey, hyung. Went out for a bit. I’ll just meet you at the party? The address is 747 Main, right? _ As he puts his device back into his pocket, readjusting the plastic covering his suit right now as he held it, the door opens. 

Yugyeom beams at him. “Hyung! You’re alive. I’m  _ so _ happy you’re okay, you know? I couldn’t imagine—“ 

“Of  _ course _ I’m fine. I kept working the next day, didn’t I?” For his pride, and Yugyeom’s concern.

He taps his chin. “Ah. Yeah, that’s right, but ahhhum...I was still worried, I guess?” He opens the door wider, letting him in. As he expected, it’s quintessential College Student. Ah. Youth. “Bam-ah’s in his room. He was all creepy like, _ I’ve been expecting you _ .” He drums his fingers together, shutting the door, and tries an evil laugh. Jinyoung jumps as the door slams behind them, colliding with Yugyeom’s cackle.

Ah...hah. So funny. Yugyeom’s laughing at him, so. “Which room is it?” He mutters, staring down the hallway. 

Yugyeom tilts his head in the direction of the first door on the right, and points as well. “Our other roommate is here too, so if you hear like, a guitar shredding don’t worry!”

“Right. Okay.” He barely knocks before the door opens. Bam’s rather well put together himself, apparently trying out...dark grey eyeshadow, crème finish or...sorry. He doesn’t quite know what he’s looking at, as his makeup is half finished.

“Hyung, you’re full of so many gifts, and surpriiisees...” He sighs. “Taking me as your date to an uber cool adult party—“ 

“Date? My colleague.” He corrects, to a very obvious eye roll. 

“And now, I get to make you not look like  _ trash _ for once. You really want this opportunity to pan out, huh?”

Right. Yes. Opportunity, not, impress...hey, wait. “Trash?” 

“Not in a  _ total _ bad way. Likee, of course you’re attractive. You know that.” He wraps a hand around his chin, cupping it, as Jinyoung tries not to think too hard about Jaebeom’s words— _ You’re so handsome, Jinyoung-ah _ . “You’ve got good bone structure. But you don’t  _ do _ anything with it.”

His face feels hot anyways, pulling Bambam’s hand off, but it goes right back, cupping his cheek this time. Stubborn... “Are you—“ His fingers squeeze, pulling.

“ _ Embarrassed _ ? Hyung, I figured because you know, you work behind the scenes, instead of acting yourself or something. I didn’t mean to actually like...” He bites the inside of his cheek. “It was a joke.”

Unprecedentedly sweet. Maybe he’d be a fun date, after all? Bambam waits, watching his expression, but he can’t help but smile.

“How cute! Your immaturity shines through.” He sighs, wistfully. “An innocent attempt in both lowering and helping my self esteem. Ah...youth.”

Bambam blinks. Once. Twice. Several times. “What?” 

“Can we get star—“

“How much older than me are you  _ anyways _ ?” 

Bambam’s handy with an eyeshadow brush. He did mention wanting to minor in art, but finding it a bit too difficult to handle on top of acting. And it’s better that Jinyoung asked for help anyways, he’d probably look like a mess...but staring into Bam’s vanity mirror...

He looks good. Put together. Professional. He needs to push his hair back, and put on his suit, but he’d look...he’d look like he has something to offer, instead of a cheap indie film. A  _ quality _ cheap indie film. 

Bambam leans on his shoulder, starry-eyed, pointing to everything, “So, I used a red eyeshadow, on the edges and under your eyes to add some depth—and it’s kind of like, that sickly look but I didn’t do it too heavily here. Like on me, it’s like, 100% but on you I did like, 50%. Gold highlight to bring out your undertones, deep contour because you have  _ angles _ , peachy-nude lip gloss...Ah. All in a days work, I remain a genius.” 

“Thanks...” He murmurs, staring, taking it all in. “For everything. Going along with my film. Going as my date...fixing my face...”

Bambam sighs, shaking his shoulders, pressing his nose to his neck. “ _ Please _ , hyung. You  _ know _ I admire you, and you’re the one giving  _ me _ all these opportunities.” He squeezes. “Besides. My charity act for the week.”

“Ha, ha. Very funny.” He reaches up to pat him on the back. “But seriously. Thank you.”

“Of course. How  _ else _ will you win the photographer’s heart?”

He shuts his eyes, taking a deep breath, surprised at how even his voice comes out. “And where, would you get a ridiculous idea like that?”

“I’m an actor. It is  _ literally _ my job to observe and take.” He draws away, hand lingering on his shoulder, “And also, it was a total guess but thanks for the leverage, pal. You can go get dressed in the bathroom.”

Jinyoung continues to remain, his own worst enemy.

Unexpectedly,Bambam has a pretty clean bathroom for a couple of college students. Then again, Bambam seemed like one of those secret-neat types, much how like Jinyoung was the opposite. A very well-crafted persona (at least, in his college days. He can’t help the trip down memory lane,) and a slob at home. 

Nowadays, it’s mostly just the slob part, but, there’s really no reason to care so much when you accidentally launch yourself down a flight of stairs and put yourself out of commission so badly your mother makes you get a  _ roommate. _

Anyways. His suit. He bought it like, two years ago for a friend’s wedding, instead of renting just because...it seemed like a worthwhile investment. It’s a bit tight, around the thighs, but other than that, it’ll present the perfect picture of whatever he’s trying to be. A bit old-fashioned, but he’s modern enough to pull it off.

Oh, and it’s  _ midnight _ black. He had to make sure, because apparently dark-blue suits passing for black is a big issue. 

He ties the bow around his neck, and moves on to his hair, staring hard into the mirror. Bam had pulled out a tiny box of supplies, once again out of the goodness in his heart. So sweet. So kind. He considers maybe, wearing it off to the side, or just keeping his bangs down maybe, but settles on just slicking it all the way back. 007 style.

If looks could kill...

As he opens the door, “Are you seriously done, already?” Bambam mumbles. He has a dress shirt half buttoned up, haphazardly working on it. “It’s been no time. Do I have to do your hair, too?” He glances up as Jinyoung starts awkwardly playing with the strands. He thought it was fine, but good things always take time...

He doesn’t  _ say _ anything. “Is it really that bad? I thought it was simple...” 

And then he beams, clasping his hands together. “No! It’s  _ perfect _ you look like a movie star! Like a leading man,” Then he starts mumbling to himself, continuing to button his shirt. “...I’m a golden god. I am. I’m so skilled.” 

When it’s about time to arrive fashionably late, as per the,  _ you around, yet _ ? Text from Jaebeom, Bambam’s standing half an inch taller than him, with the perfectly fluffed hair, makeup, he’s  _ really _ the movie star. Jinyoung’s dull in comparison, hopefully fading into the background just as he likes it. 

As they’re preparing to leave, Yugyeom peeks his head from out of their barely adequate kitchen, alongside their other roommate, the one with a guitar practically attached to his hip. Jungkook, if he's correct.

Cute...he’s gaping. “Wow, oh geez...” Yugyeom’s uncharacteristically quiet, gathering his thoughts. “And this is all for a networking party?” 

Their other roommate tilts his head, “Yea, who are you trying to impress? Too good for a room of stuffy old people, to be  _ quite _ honest.” 

Bambam tsks, grabbing Jinyoung’s arm and holding on. “And that’s why I’m a ten and you two are seven-and-a halves.”

“Sure, okay. I’m a nine and you  _ know  _ it.” Their roommate, Jungkook, turns back to their refrigerator, but Yugyeom just smiles sheepishly and turns. 

“Be saaafe!” Yugyeom calls, as they begin to head out the door,

“Yeah, get super drunk, and liven up that party!” The other one shouts, as the door shuts. Jinyoung can physically feel the stress leaving his shoulders. 

As they’re making their way to the elevator, Bambam sighs heavily, taking Jinyoung down with him as he leans on him. “It can’t be as boring as they’re saying, right?”

“Modeling corporation is bound to have eye candy at least.” He mumbles, “But generally, parties like these are just people trying to get their foot in the door.” Including himself. 

Once they’re in his car, and Bambam has his heels on his precious dashboard, which he won’t mention because he’s doing a huge favor for him right now, does Jinyoung feel creeping stress. He’s generally...well, he’s talked to studios before. Over email. And in college he did one or two trashy free internships. But this is to a new scale, and even then, it’s not like he  _ cares _ . His film isn’t finished. He’s really just offering a pipe-dream and a quick excuse to talk to Jaebeom...and his girlfriend.

He played it up like, some huge opportunity to himself, but when it comes down to it, he only has five business cards. At least...maybe he’ll have some fun. Bambam definitely wouldn’t let him sulk all night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading y'all! i really appreciate the feedback and i'm happy to brighten up your days! <3 love you birdies.  
> can you tell bambam is my fave member to write lol? (jk im jaebeom trash but bammie's always fun)


	7. Chapter 7

The venue is practically out of the city, in a pretty large dining hall. It’s large, and shiny, and out of Jinyoung’s league,  _ Chrysanthemum Hall. _ It’s...once again, nervewracking. Jinyoung wonders how he falls into these situations. Or how Jaebeom gets him to fall into these situations. What’s the point of promoting himself, really? Who can he impress, other than his mom and people who don’t know what they’re talking about.

A fraud. 

It’s as if Bambam can read his mind, because his friend rolls his eyes at him.

“You look like you’re thinking too hard. I can tell by the vein popping. It’s so cute--hi!” Bambam waves at his head. 

“You’re such a punk.” Jinyoung hisses, with a sigh of relief. He can swallow his anxiety for now. 

There’s a valet? Did he mention valet? He’s never even  _ looked _ at a valet driver before, and now his precious car keys...goodbye...

Bambam holds on to his arm again, as they step onto a pretty ornate, carpet, practically blending into the concrete if not for the shimmery details. Tickets are electronic, so all he has to do is show his phone, and...they’re in.

The entrance is gorgeous. He feels like he may have seen it in a film recently, because with ceilings this high, and such elaborate decorations, it would shoot  _ beautifully _ . Especially with the stairs leading into the main hall. As they’re heading up the stairs, slowly, because Bambam is just hanging on to him, does he offer an interesting prospect.

“Soooo, hyung, am I like your  _ date, date _ . Or?” He asks, “I mean, not like, for real because um...” Oh, ho, who’s in his life? “But I can pretend to be. If you wanna. I think that would be fun.” 

Hmmmmmmm...

“We  _ do _ make an interesting pair.” Jinyoung’s simple, Bambam is not. And yet, their aesthetics match. Heavy makeup, fitted suits. Well, Bambam’s in a sequin blazer, but. All Jinyoung’s lacking are the shoes, so they’d be on equal footing but...it could be fun. A fun acting exercise. He is  _ definitely _ not thinking about Jaebeom, the place is big, who knows if he’s even around, maybe he’s just making out with Sunmi—it wouldn’t even  _ matter _ . 

Maybe his brain really  _ did _ short circuit? He takes Jinyoung’s silence and slight smile as a yes.

“Yay, hyung, I finally have a boyfriend!” He doesn’t drop their arms, but rather takes his other hand and cups Jinyoung’s cheek, kissing him. “Trial run. Let’s do it. Let’s be one of those annoying couples.” 

They finally make it to the top of the stairs,opening to a large ballroom, a chandelier hanging as a watchful eye over the space. The ceiling has some sort of classical scene painted into it, to be hidden by the chandelier’s bright lights. Like a hidden gem. The ballroom has a wide open dance space lined with tables on the edges, hidden beside columns. They’re supposed to be at the twenty-first. Then it occurs to Jinyoung that Bambam was talking.

“Right. Yeah.” He glances around, squinting. He probably should have brought at least one pair of glasses...aren’t parties supposed to be  _ dark _ ? “Uhhh...I’ll try?”

“This will be an excellent exercise. You better cast me in everything you do from now on.” He bumps his shoulder, as Jinyoung shakes his head,  _ no _ . “Where are we supposed to be going?”

“Wherever twenty-one is.” And then is pulled along, as Bambam spots it immediately. Past the bar. The people handing around hors d’eourves. Past unfamiliar faces. Huh...where could Jaebeom be?

Where...where...wh...oh.

Right...duh...at the table. He  _ was _ invited by him—them? After all. They don’t blend in with the background at all—Jaebeom’s like a light in his vision anyways, and the woman sitting next to him, playing with her nails is just as bright. Beautiful.  _ Real _ . She’s real.

It’s a silly thing, because of course Sunmi’s real. But other than pictures, he’d never seen her, and it’s like his fantasy crashes down on his shoulders. As he glances towards Jaebeom sitting there swirling a glass of wine, it feels  _ wrong _ . Forbidden. Not his, crossed off and away behind caution tape. He can’t even focus on him for a second, eyes drifting back to the disinterested woman.

In all the time it takes for them to get there, she doesn’t lift her head once, and any conversational exchange they have seems to be a word or two. 

As they get closer, she does look up, locking eyes with him. She’s—she has a deadly gaze, especially with that smokey eye, and he’d probably stop if not for Bambam dragging him along. She’s fierce, and that’s even scarier, somehow? She doesn’t hold the eye contact as Jinyoung keeps staring, turning her attention to her own wine glass.

Yeah...she’s a model alright. He’s not sure if he’s seen someone who belongs immortalized in pictures more.

It feels like years pass before they finally stop at the empty table, currently being the only four occupying it. It appears to be meant for six, which is unfortunate, because maybe they could ease the tension.

Bambam slams his hands on the table. “Where’s the booze? I did not see any—I only saw  _ champagne _ .” Ah...excellent ice-breaker, as the two of them lift their heads at the same time.

Sunmi pulls her wine glass closer, glancing over the two for a moment longer. “Um...if you go by the...the servers over there.” She points loosely, lifting a hand lazily in the direction. She tilts her head in Jaebeom’s direction, who remains silent, burning a hole into his side. “Beom.” She tries, and fails to get his attention.

Bambam slips his arm back around Jinyoung’s, with a small smile. “Hi! I’m Bambam, by the way.”

She bows her head a bit. “Lee Sunmi.” Her name apparently snaps Jaebeom out of it, as he leans over to her side and takes her hand, clasping it,

“Miya, this is my roommate!” Where’s,  _ love _ , baby,  _ sweetheart _ ? He’s so normal?

“Your...?” Her eyes glide back into Jinyoung, offering paralysis once again. “Oh...” Her gaze draws down, taking him in. Jinyoung’s not sure if he’s felt this vulnerable in a while. “The director.” 

“On the side.” He manages to unfreeze, and dips his head, “Park Jinyoung—I’ve um, heard so much about you!” 

She turns her gaze back to Jaebeom, whom he still can’t look at. “Good things?”

“—Only good things!” Jinyoung answers for him, surprised at his proactive nature when it comes to defending his favourite photographer.

Jinyoung sits down after Bambam runs off to steal a wine bottle. Jaebeom insists to be next to him, and he keeps his eyes on the table Jaebeom’s entire line of questioning.

“Did Bam do your makeup?” He asks, leaning towards him to try and get his attention. All he can smell is his cologne. He lifts his eyes a bit, glancing towards her, but Sunmi doesn’t seem interested in their conversation. “It’s so pretty.” 

“He—“ Don’t stutter, you coward. “H-he did.”

“You look good. Maybe Sunmi’s agency will try and pick you up!” He laughs, Sunmi chimes in with a soft one,

“Interested?” She asks, and Jinyoung realizes a second later that’s a question for  _ him _ . 

He can draw his head up, eyes flying to Jaebeom for a split second and...yeah, he’s gorgeous as usual. Just hours ago his mind was preoccupied with thoughts of his, his  _ everything _ , but he can barely look at him. Unlike Jinyoung, with his slicked back, simple look, Jaebeom did sort of the opposite, hair wavy, but only parted on one side, shirt unbuttoned maybe two-buttons too low and a pretty necklace hanging to compliment his blazer. He’s both groomed and not; that stupid perfectly imperfect way that defines his existence. 

“In modeling? I...I don’t think I’d be good at it.”

“He’s  _ lying _ .” Jaebeom laughs, and there’s Jaebeom’s hand on his, squeezing his fingers, right...in...front...of. “He’s a really good model, Noona.” 

“Hm.” 

It’s quiet for a bit, and Jinyoung’s thinking Bambam might have abandoned him when Jaebeom reaches for him again, gently caressing his fingers.

“Jinyoung-ah, did you get to talk with any directors? Most people are still mingling, so this would be an excellent time.” 

“I don’t even know where I’d start.” He mutters. She’s  _ not _ interested. She’s really  _ not _ . She’s more interested in the tablecloth! Jaebeom seems to notice where he’s looking, because the grip on his hand unexpectedly tightens.

But he contradicts that entirely with his next words. “Miya knows. Miya?” He turns his head in her direction and she looks up. “Would it be too much trouble...?”

“Not at all,” Sunmi hums, “But maybe, a little later? It’s good to wait until the later hours of the night. Then they just, toss the information away...” 

“Right.” Jaebeom nods, eyes back on Jinyoung. “She’s really good at these sorts of things. Just trust her.”

The conversation remains small-talky until Bambam returns, plopping the wine bottle in the middle of the table. Sunmi stares,

“You’re supposed to get a waiter to pour it?” 

“Oh, I figured. So I snuck into the kitchen and took a bottle. Really bad security, I’ve got to say.” He plops down, next to Jinyoung, after pouring them both, probably too much. 

Bambam’s um, personality? Seems to intrigue her, as she leans forward on the table, “And, what do you do?” 

He taps his chin, listing off things, “Well. College. And then I act. Sometimes I help my brother out at his restaurant. Occasionally my sister calls me over to take out her trash. I used to help my friend out with his street-vending business. But mostly for now I focus on school, and this guy.” He squeezes Jinyoung’s arm, again.

Sunmi tilts her head, still curious, glancing between the two. “You’re together?” That catches Jaebeom’s attention too, resting his head in his palm and looking.

Bambam leans on him, “For tonight!” Pssshhh, what kind of acting exercise is this? It’s accurate to real life. He’s clearly not method. 

Jinyoung offers a small smile to Sunmi, “He’s modest.” That’s how you do it, Bam. Smooth, unassuming, and leaving room for assumptions. He watches Jaebeom’s smile fade the slightest bit. Maybe he shouldn’t have quit acting to be behind the camera so soon. 

“Oh? How’d,” She waves her hand, “This, come about?”

Jinyoung hopes it’s casual enough. “Oh, it’s not interesting. What about you two? Hyung’s told me  _ nothing _ .” 

She grins, flipping her hair behind her neck. “That’s just like him. You first, I’m truly curious.”

Right. He glances to Bambam, hoping he can read his mind,  _ the truth, please _ . It’s better to build stories from half-truths than complete lies.

“O-oh! Well...” He taps his chin, “Two years ago, right before he was gonna graduate, and I was a freshman and everything, hyung was one of the like, err...” He searches for the word,

“Student supervisors.” 

“—Yeah! And I kinda got in trouble a lot, so we talked often.” 

“Because you broke all the rules, Bam.” Jinyoung says, and he simply shrugs. “And he’s a theatre major, so we kept in touch after I graduated, to see if I could cast him in anything. It’s, pretty boring.” He admits.

“You guys are like, totally matchy-matchy.” Sunmi sings, placing her hands to her cheeks. Who knew, she had an expression other than boredom. “Cute.”

“I did his makeup!” Bam chimes, “See, I went with a red look, to go with my gold, but, it’s not like it matters to him.” He snorts, “I probably shoulda dressed him too, to be honest.” Jinyoung’s gaze flickers to Jaebeom, who keeps his eyes down, and focused on his hands, just, flicking his nails absent-mindedly. What is he thinking about...? 

It’s quiet for a bit, until Sunmi jumps, suddenly remembering “Right! Beom and I...” She leans forward, humming. “Maybe...six years ago? We were in the same major too, but we didn’t really start talking until after he dropped out.” 

Dropped out? Jaebeom doesn’t react at all, his eyes staying focused on his hands. So it’s water under the bridge...or is he pretending?

“And through all the hard times, I made sure I was there. That’s why you love me, right, honey?” It lacks any, and all affection. A total show. Anyone could deliver a line better. 

Jaebeom nods though, a small, soft smile. “Of course.” 

It seems both, like the answer she wanted, and didn’t, because she slumps back into her seat. “And...yeah.”

Quiet. Awkward, quiet.

The third couple shows up to a silent table. Jinyoung thinks they said their names were Hoseok and Hyungwon. Decidedly familiar, but also meaningless. 

Bambam the social butterfly he is, practically describes his life story to the newcomers, before the waiters come, they're given a dismal choice, Jinyoung drowns himself in about, three glasses of wine. So much for being a fun drunk.

He doesn’t feel like really, entertaining this anymore. So he stays quiet, and swirls his wine-glass like the villain-in-the-making he is. It’s one of those dry types, which doesn’t help, because his mouth was already dry from nerves, but he drinks anyways.

And without anybody questioning him, he sort of zones out.

Gods, please take him away from this universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi y'all, it's been a while but thank you for reading! school is >.> but i'll try to keep a most consistent schedule!


	8. Chapter 8

It’s enough to say Jinyoung thinks a lot about nothing. Over-analyzing is his specialty, but even he can get a little tired of it sometimes. His body usually goes on autopilot when he thinks too much, but it can do that when he has _nothing_ to think about as well. It’s a really poor defense-mechanism. 

“Jinyoung?” 

...

“Jinyoung? Jinyoung? Is he alright?”

...

Oh...yeah. He lifts his head, glancing at his fork, between meat, and then some vegetables. He wasn’t hungry. Sunmi was the one speaking to him, that gorgeous woman. 

“What? Uh, sorry, what was it?”

“The studio executives...you wanted to meet them, right?” 

Right, yeah, he should. He moves slowly, pushing his chair back to follow her, as she practically jumps out of her chair,

“Beomie, we’re go- _ing_!” 

Jaebeom nods, focusing on his own drink. He seems, looser. Bambam stealing a bottle of wine was probably a horrible idea. 

____

That’s why he’s walking down the hallway with Lee Sunmi. Her dress is long, deep grey, so maybe a bright color, trailing behind her with a little train. Her hair bounces behind her in pretty little curls, and he’s...shorter than her in heels. 

It’s silent, until they’re a bit away from the table and she slows her pace. “Jinyoung, yeah?” 

Pretty sure she _just_ called him that, but he nods politely anyways. “And Sunmi, yes?” 

She smiles a bit at his quip. He can’t tell if it’s genuine or not. 

“I don’t know where to begin. I want to talk to you, but, it seems rather sudden...” She tilts her head, hair following.

“Oh.”

She sighs, changing directions suddenly, back up towards the stairs. “All of the execs are such horrible alcoholics, you can just ask for their cards and get it like candy at this point.” Oh. So lateness has its perks. Jinyoung would never even dare of risking such an opportunity like that. He supposes it's a good thing Sunmi's here. 

They’re back by the stairs, heading up towards the upper floor balcony area. Sunmi just exchanges quick conversations with faceless men in expensive suits with exquisite detailing and hands him a business card by the end of it. It’s...backhandedly nice. Once they’re at the top floor, she leads him onto the dance floor. A slow melody herald by violins and a piano has been ingrained in Jinyoung’s memory, by it’s seeming never-ending nature.

She glances back at him. “Wanna dance?”

Jinyoung’s hands find their way around her waist, “Sure.” 

Sunmi gives him a small grin, as she twirls them around and takes the lead. They spin for a while. Jinyoung tries not to look at her too hard, but even in his quick glances, he's really the one embarrassed. _They're three inches apart right now, Jinyoung, get a grip._ He takes a deep breath, but Sunmi steals the moment from him. 

“Aaaaaaah.” She sighs, “You know, he never stops talking about you. I thought you’d be a bit more impressive than this.” She leans over, dusting off his shoulder. “Sure, you’re pretty. But...”

Oh. He’s pretty. “How nice.” He meant to think that, but Sunmi ignores it anyway. She’s a bit hesitant—they are virtually strangers except for the one connecting string. 

“Jaebeomie and I...” She groans, “He is such a bad boyfriend, you know. Or maybe I’m bad. Whatever. It’s just that—“

“You’re incompatible?” He answers quickly, tries to keep impersonal, but...is it bitterness or jealousy? She dips him. Jinyoung briefly wonders if they’re a strange sight to behold on the floor, but Bambam hasn’t come to shame him or anything, so he assumes he’s fine. 

“Who said that?” They’re terrible, but no-one’s destroyed any shoes yet. “Have you seen the photographs he’s taken of us? We match, so well.” She fails to provide any evidence. The song they’re dancing to speeds up.

Sure, they have looks. But...how do they hold up personality-wise? 

She seems to read his mind, “Could you just let me talk?” 

“It’s clear to me you don’t even like each other. So...” He waves a hand, waiting.

“It’s—not—was that obvious?” There’s a crack in her exterior for a moment, brows furrowing. 

Jinyoung fails at staying detached, pushing a hand through his hair. “Yes. It’s obvious.” He starts, “I’ve never even met you before this and...well. Nevermind.” 

“Nevermind? Nevermind _what_?”

“I figure it’s not my place.” He says, but Sunmi just frowns deeper, so he’ll speak. “—but...you’re never there, are you?”

Her glare is ice cold at that, his body goes numb, as he thinks. “ _Never there_?” What a weak line. Maybe he does have something to say. Jinyoung takes a deep breath, putting on his harshest tone.

“Why _else_ would _your_ boyfriend be so clingy? I’ve heard so little about you, I assume he really has nothing more to say other than— _we’re dating_.” He’s not sure when he became Jaebeom’s defense-line, but, “He said that he thinks you’d prefer him dead? Is that true? Just break up with him already.” 

The way she exhales, she’s releasing anger, but says nothing, allowing Jinyoung to keep going. His bravery hasn’t run out yet. 

“How often do you talk? Are you even close? I can’t imagine—“ She pulls away from him, ending their waltz. She nearly begins ranting, but takes Jinyoung’s hand, and pulls him to a dimly lit part of the ballroom first. Directly opposite of their table. 

She points to her chest, “Do you know how exhausting he can _be_ ? Nothing’s ever wrong! ' _I’m fine_ , I’m okay, don’t _worry_ , Miya!' It’s _him_ —it’s his fault!” She wraps her arms around herself, “He stresses me out so bad, because he’s always, just, _fine_ . And I was _there_ ! I—saw _everything!_ And if everything’s _fine_ , then I can tune him out. No?” 

Did he hear her correctly? And, still... “Are you _kidding_? Can’t you read in between the lines?”

“You think it’s that easy?” She hisses. He does, think it’s that easy. Jinyoung keeps his head high, using his best director voice,

“Break up with him.” 

It’s quiet, Sunmi taking a deep breath, just, looking at him. “I want to. I decided...a bit ago.” She says. Jinyoung thinks something’s cracked, and overflowed in him. 

Instead of vocalizing his feelings, he keeps quiet, as his cowardice floats back into his mind. Did he really...just... _do that_? 

His brain presents a lackluster option of what he didn’t want to say. “When?” 

Sunmi laughs airily, pulling at strands of her hair, “It’s hard to get a hold of him, sometimes. He’s a little detached.” He hears what she doesn’t say. _Tonight_ , Gods willing.

He frowns a bit, clicking his teeth. “Enough.”

“I don’t know if we know the same man.” 

There are, way too many questions. Sunmi just smiles at him—too sweet, like pure sugar, like they weren’t arguing a moment ago.

“—But, I really do care about Jaebeom. And I figured you were friends, so I invited you. Help pick up the pieces.” Her smile fades, replaced by a tight one covered in lipstick. “I worry about him, even if you don’t think so. We’ve sorta been through it all. I want to make sure he’s safe.” Her eyes tell him that he should know why, but, what exactly? Jaebeom has said nothing to him.

“I...” He sighs, biting his lip. “I have no idea what you’re suggesting.” Not what he wanted to say, but probably what he needed.

It dawns on her all at once, covering her mouth with her hand. “Oh, god. I _forgot_.” She snaps her fingers, searching for words, “We’ve just been together so long, I forgot he could be so...so,”

“Secretive? Reserved? Enigmatic?” 

Her smile’s apparent, even past her hand. “Hmmm...yeah.” She pulls her hand away. “...I figured since you’re roommates...you’d know.”

“You’re just going to toss him onto me once you’re done?” 

She frowns at that, and it’s like she never smiled at all. “Oh. Is that how you’re like? You’ll call me out, but won’t help him?” 

“You’re making way too many assumptions.” He mumbles, but it’s not like her attack wasn’t scathing, stinging like a slap even though she hadn’t moved. 

There’s also the fact that, that wasn’t what he meant at all. He thought he was being critical of Sunmi, but she turned his words on him really quickly. Was it her plan to distract him, so he’d agree or something? To come out blameless? 

She turns from him, crossing her arms. “God, is Jaebeom terrible at making friends.” She starts to head away, back in the direction of the dining area. “You’re welcome, for the cards, by the way. Just mention my name in the emails. People don’t forget me.” 

And...she’s gone. Taking her time down the stairs, leaving him alone in the hallway.

He sighs, pushing that interaction to the back of his head, and wandering down the hallway, just...wandering. It’s big, and empty, and none of the servers pay him and mind as he walks, staring at the weird paintings lining it. 

So. What’s it gonna be? He’ll come back, and he’ll have to deal with this information? Should he just...tell him? Would that make it hurt less? He...doesn’t want to see Jaebeom in pain over her.

He’s not quite sure if he’s qualified to handle a broken heart. If it’s even broken...?

He turns around to ultimately head back to the main hall, but takes his time to think.

Sunmi wants him to be around to take him out of her hair, basically. Smart plan, it would never happen in a movie. What _would_ happen though, is, the main protagonist—

_Enough, you lovesick fool_. Jinyoung sighs.

He needs a fucking drink. 

____

Jinyoung’s back by the banisters of the huge staircase, overlooking the crowd when he notices. A quick glance at their table and Sunmi is obviously not there. Jaebeom as well. A look to his watch, and it’s been a little over an hour since he saw her last. 

So...she...is she hiding? Did she leave? Jaebeom would go with her if she left, right? Go home, together, break his heart then? Maybe if he runs out fast enough he can just hide under his blankets and pretend nothing’s happened—

“...Jinyoung?” 

_ Oh, no, that’s right. He can’t. Because the fates hate him. _

Jaebeom’s leaning against the banister on one of the further ends, looking directly at him, so if he wanted to run away...

He takes a deep breath, finding the courage quickly to be next to him. He seems normal, other than that fact his eyes are bloodshot and he seems absolutely smashed if the several drinks he saw him go at earlier in the night meant anything. 

“Hi.” He breathes, “Uh. I was just...getting some fresh air.” 

Jaebeom nods slowly, a soft  _ oh _ , barely muttered. He’d ask where Sunmi is, but it probably doesn’t matter, and so, he finds himself at a loss. What to say? 

“—Um.” He starts. Jaebeom’s eyes slowly drift to his face. “I, uh. I got the...business cards.” 

“That’s nice. I hope it helps.” He really  _ does _ have more walls than Jinyoung can count, maybe. He’s not always fine. He’s not like that with Jinyoung, at least...

“Yeah. Me too.” He says, quickly. “Are...are you alright?” 

He tilts his head, with a low hiss, hair following. “Sure. Why?” 

He’s so...

Jinyoung reaches out, wanting to wrap a hand around his arm, resigning for the truth. “Sunmi told me...”  And is stopped quickly by reality. His reaction is minimal, his eyes flying back to his hand wrapped around the banister and seeing just how unsteady Jaebeom is. He settles for a compromise. “You want me to take you ho—“ 

He watches, as Jaebeom just  _ leans _ , and then his lips...he’s...he’s so close, he’s so close. He’s been close, he’s been close,  _ rela— _

See, he didn’t really imagine it like this.

Jinyoung prefers—he  _ is _ a romantic fantasy guy, and this is a bit too gritty for him, because Jaebeom’s lips are chapped, not soft at all, and they don’t do that, fitting perfectly thing, they just bump, and Jinyoung hits his nose, the wine is disgusting. A kiss. 

Doesn’t mean his heart doesn’t  _ stop _ at that moment, though. As his thoughts catch up, he can piece the story together in these quick moments. Sunmi went to talk with him. Jaebeom’s already drunk, and judgment is lackluster...So he’s prepping him to be...

Be the rebound he’s always meant to be? 

Even through the static in his brain, telling him to pull away, he can’t help but take control, placing a hand on Jaebeom’s neck, and tilting his head, so that they’d fit better. He’s easily moldable, too. He’s perfect, really, even if he’s trying to use Jinyoung to manage his pain at this moment. 

His voice snaps him out of it, just a little whine when Jinyoung bit down on his lip, and he pulls away. 

Jinyoung stares at him, hoping to find  _ something _ . Anything giving way to some emotional response, but he’s simply just wobbly, and unsteady. And sad. There’s a deep sadness somewhere, there  _ has _ to be. He just can’t find it by gazing through shallow water. He asks again,

“Are you alright?” 

“I’m  _ fine _ .” He stresses, with the same low hiss. Basically; don’t pry, Jinyoung, and his lips are on his again, dragging this time.

More intense. Jaebeom’s goal seems to be, to make him look indecent in public, tugging his hair, undoing it’s style. Unfair, so Jinyoung pulls at a button of his dress shirt, undoing that, and wrinkling the collar at the same time. 

It occurs to Jinyoung that he’s making out with someone who has a girlfriend in public, a second after noticing his lip gloss-stick—whatever Bam put on him, is highlighting Jaebeom’s lips now. Pretty grey, pretty, pretty shade of grey. It’s...perfect, in a dream.

Unfortunately. 

He takes one of his hands, and Jaebeom looks away. “Why don’t I take you home, hyung?”

He feels a little bad, dumping Bambam off like that, but he assured him it was his goal to get them  _ together _ in the first place, and would scam his way home. He didn’t really ask questions about that last part, but he told him to text when he got home. 

Jinyoung assumes that Jaebeom is pretty drunk, and he looks like hell—not that Jinyoung’s complaining, because  _ he _ did that, Leaning back in the passengers seat, sitting on his side, so he can watch Jinyoung drive. Never bothered fixing his shirt. Never bothered wiping the lipstick off. And he’s. Just. Begging. 

“Hyung, whining isn’t going to get you anywhere.”

“—But you’re so handsome, and preettyyy and, I like you so much you know that right, Jinyoung-ah,  _ Jinyoung-ah _ , don’t you love me?” He continues to tune him out, because he’d definitely fall into that trap if he heard anymore. His goal tonight is to get his friend home, into bed, and he’ll wake up, and probably feel guilty, and...

He doesn’t delve on the moments of their kiss much, though it’s practically all he’s been dreaming about, Jinyoung’s never wanted to be...well, some sort of fucking, hurt patch or whatever. And Sunmi...oh lord. 

He doesn’t...he doesn’t want to think about what he just did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi all! to be honest with everyone here I've had a pretty bad few months, school starting and one of my best friends basically dumped me so I've been pretty sad. but all of your comments really help to brighten up my day and keep me motivated. i really, truly appreciate it! ahgase have always been the best so who am i kidding but lol  
> anyways, we're finally hitting the portion of the fic where i'm like, writing it again, so that should be exciting!!!! thank you all so much for reading

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is preeetty much finished unlike my other one in progress so i'll try to update it weekly. thanks for reading!


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